


Snapshots: Book 6 of The Bond Series Universe Stories

by Foreverwolf_6



Series: The Bond Series: Merlin [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Character Development, Comfort, Drama, Established Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Fluff, Gwaine Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Hurt, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Gwaine (Merlin), Protective Knights (Merlin), Romance, Rough Sex, Slash, Snapshots, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 54,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27685463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foreverwolf_6/pseuds/Foreverwolf_6
Summary: A collection place for any stories I may decide to write in the future that may attach to The Bond Universe, lol. Will remain Rated T in general, as well as H/C, and Angst genres, but each story will have it's own settings in the AN Note, so read those carefully! Will be adding more even as it says the series is complete, so feel free to put on Alerts. Established MERTHUR. SLASH.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: The Bond Series: Merlin [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022760
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Going Home: Chapter 1/11

**Author's Note:**

> AN: So, Book 6, Snapshots- is a space where I can continue to add any further short stories to the Bond universe. So it will remain 'in progress' and never completed. You'll see in the chapter names where the stories change from one to another. The Book will remain rated T, but I'll put warnings in place for anything that may rate Higher. Keep in mind the slash scenes from the other Books! Lol. This follows the same lines.
> 
> Title: Going Home CH 1/11
> 
> Timeline: Immediately following events Chapter 16 of Book 5 (RE-UPLOAD Version: Immediately following 17. Chapter 16) {Before the Epilogue}
> 
> Description: The road home isn't always a straight path. Why is it old enemies always show up at the happiest of times? Established Merthur. Slash.
> 
> Overall Story Warnings: Slash, of course. There is one chapter which may present Trigger warnings (you'll see it in the AN), but it's an emotional state, not graphic recall. I think that's it. With the exception of a few of the slash parts, I'd still feel comfortable putting most of this story as rate T.
> 
> AN: For my loyal reviewers, who wanted a happy (No Whump :0) Setting. No idea if I can deliver, but let's give it a go… UPDATE: I failed. I can't NOT hurt him. I need help. Lol. I just love my H/C too much! I didn't hurt him much, if that counts? Lol.
> 
> Also, for Mithian lovers... I'm sorry. I strongly dislike her. However, bright side, I do acknowledge that she was the only Princess with any kind of a deep enough character to do this with. I saw hints of its potential in the two episodes she was in, how fast her moods could switch.
> 
> MERLIN101010101010101MERLIN

" _MERLIN_! Wake up!"

Merlin groaned as he was lifted a little off the mattress by the heavy flop of a body next to him on the bed. Without hesitation he wrapped his arm tightly around the body and pulled it closer to him as he adjusted his position. "Shhh," he murmured. "Sleep now."

Gwen laughed. "Did you hear?"

"Sleep," Merlin mumbled in answer.

"Merlin!" she growled, turning around in his arms to face him. "It's past mid-morning. You should be up, and I have news."

"Hmmm."

She waited. Her friend, however, seemed determined to return to sleep. His breathing evened out again surprisingly quickly. She was about to poke him awake again when the chamber doors opened, and Arthur came in. He paused for a moment, taking in the scene. A fond smile graced Arthur's face, though something flashed through his eyes she couldn't place.

"Won't wake up?" he asked, moving toward his desk.

Gwen pouted at him. " _I_ wanted to tell him."

Arthur laughed, holding up his hands. "I won't say anything. You might as well get comfortable, though, if you're waiting on him waking up. He doesn't get up until mid-day."

"You shouldn't let him sleep like that, Arthur," Gwen tsked, settling herself. Merlin's arm around her was surprisingly strong. "He has responsibilities to see to."

"Not as long as we're here, he doesn't, so I'm inclined to indulge him while I can." Arthur looked up from his paperwork and grinned, waving his quill at her. "By all means, _try_ to wake him," he challenged.

Gwen took in the boy was she tucked into. His face looked relaxed, peaceful, in his sleep. Those dark lashes rested lightly on the alabaster skin. His raven locks flopped loosely to frame a delicate face. He was beautiful, she thought. There was a restfulness about him that wasn't there in the daylight. His muscles, despite the firmness of the arm wrapped around her, were completely slack, and carried none of the natural energy that came with his waking personality.

And knew she couldn't do it.

She shot a glare at the King, all the more irritated for his knowing smirk.

**MERLIN10101010101101010MERLIN**

"…. dare disturb…."

"…. Lady's attendants are looking for her…"

Gwen sighed as she became aware of the voices across the room from her, surprised to realize she'd fallen asleep! She stretched, realizing that arm was still around her waist, trapping her easily.

"I'll have your head, Ian!" Arthur threatened the manservant who was apparently complaining to him. "Tell them she's in a meeting with the King and her Betrothed."

Gwen flushed when she realized that meant Prince Durstan was in the room as well. She opened her eyes, surprised to see gold crowned azure shining back at her in amusement. She couldn't have stopped the smile from gracing her lips if she'd tried. She watched as he winked at her, then Merlin turned away, stretching that gloriously long body as he did so.

"We're awake, Arthur," Merlin called. He turned back to Gwen. "Good sleep?"

She blushed. "I didn't mean to fall asleep," she yawned, rearranging her rumpled dress. "I came in to wake you."

Merlin twisted himself a little, letting out a satisfying groan. "You came with news?"

Gwen's smile lit up as she sat up, remembering her excitement. "We're going home!"

Merlin sat up as well, running a hand through his hair, not caring about the scars that showed on his bare back. With Ian coming and going, and Arthur working from his desk in here- which often meant meetings- he'd become far less modest about the nudity of his top half. And Gwen, dear Gwen, had helped nurse him through most of those injuries. She knew him well enough not look at the scars with pity, which he appreciated.

He grinned at her. "Really? When?"

"Arthur says we'll be ready to leave in a few days!" she squealed happily. "Home, Merlin! I feel as though I've been gone forever!"

"Home!" Merlin repeated fervently, hugging her, sharing her excitement.

**MERLIN10101010101010101MERLIN**

Arthur ignored Gwen's glare, turning back to return to his work. He didn't look up again until he noticed a lack of movement on the bed. Gwen, it appeared, had also fallen asleep. He watched them fondly, waiting for any kind of jealousy to rise in him. He was surprised when none came. He'd been shocked, of course, to see them together when he'd first walked in, but it had looked so natural, he hadn't been able to feel anything but warmth. He loved them both so much.

He knew why she'd come in. He'd made the announcement just an hour prior. When she had escaped the meeting as quickly as she could afterwards, he had guessed her next stop. He knew they missed home as much as he did. News from Camelot had come letting them know everything was calm and in fine order. He was still eager to go back. Especially as he knew there would be the slight delay of needing to stop in Dumnonia before actually going home.

For a moment he was tempted to wake her, but he decided against it. She must have been a little tired to have so quickly gone to sleep, and he knew she was up with the sun most days. _Her_ duties had not lightened while she was here, since he involved her heavily in the negotiations. As when working together in Camelot, she had reserves of patience he did not.

She also acted as a firm barrier between himself and Mithian. He was still angry with the Princess, and as much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't quite bring himself to be friendly with her. Cordial was the best he managed, and only when there were others present. He hadn't even been able to manage much of that once Merlin had filled him in on the details of the Ritual. Unfortunately, it was becoming well known that Nemeth had fallen from the King's favor, and she was having a difficult time making up for it with the other dignitaries.

Merlin had begged him on more than one occasion to show her some compassion, but he couldn't find it in himself to be any more decent than he was. Whether it was the loss of the strong father she'd once known, the loss of her babies, her husband, the battle, or a combination of all, he didn't know, but she'd changed from the friend he once knew. They had once shared a common promise of protecting Merlin as much as possible, but that promise had faded quickly from her. She was becoming bitter and obsessed, manipulative. She'd be a strong Queen, he had no doubt, and she still worked tirelessly to secure only the best possible position for her people. It was what she was willing to do to obtain it that was getting under his skin.

It was too close to seeing the same changes in Morgana. His sister had once been a kind, loving woman too. While he didn't think Mithian would ever be capable of becoming the true evil Morgana had, she certainly walked a fine line. He knew, of course, his own actions played a part as well in those changes in the Princess. But there was something in the way she looked at Merlin that put him on edge. It was calculating, like watching a knight size up his opponent, trying to figure out their weakness. She wanted something from him, only he couldn't think of what. That gaze became more predatory every day. He shook it off. They'd be gone soon.

Gwen had stepped in, smoothly as ever, and made it known Nemeth was indeed favored, and had made concessions that were considerably more tolerant for the Kingdom than the others. When he had objected- in private, of course- she'd pointed out that anything he did now would only improve the inheritance of the expected Heir to come from his marriage to her. He'd backed down, appreciating that Gwen had her eye on the future, trusting her judgement while understanding his own was unreliable when it came to Nemeth. While he hadn't told her the details of the Ritual, he had explained Merlin's vision of the son that was to come from this. He remembered how thrilled she had been for them- for him and Merlin! She'd called his son _their_ child, too, and he'd loved her desperately for it.

He looked up at a knock at the door, quickly making his way to answer it himself rather than yell. He smiled when he saw Prince Durstan, and held up a finger to his lips. His desk was on the far side of the room away from the bed, and he watched the Prince carefully as he took in the scene, leading him back to the desk.

"I'm sorry. I understand that may not be appropriate," Arthur offered quietly as they sat. "I know she's your betrothed…"

Durstan grinned at him, waving it away. "As he is yours. They will be brother and sister in truth soon, as they have long been in their hearts. Gwen made no secret of her feelings regarding my brother. It is sweet to see them together."

Arthur nodded. "They've been friends for a long time. What they've seen each other through- Durstan, there are no words. I don't have the heart to wake them," he said as he poured his guest a goblet of watered down wine. "To friendship," he toasted.

"To friendship," Durstan replied, leaning forward with a wink. "And _beauty_. We are, indeed, blessed men, Arthur."

Arthur took a drink, glancing at the scene, and considered Durstan was right. Tucked up against each other, his light skin contrasting her dark, they did make a stunning picture. "Truly we are!" he agreed, smiling. "It's hard to believe I'm actually going to marry him. I never thought it would be possible." It still gave him a thrill whenever he allowed the thought to pop into his mind.

Durstan nodded, waving the scroll he'd been carrying. "I have a reply from my mother, actually. She is honored, and pleased, that not only have you accepted our proposal, but that you've decided to have the wedding in Dumnonia. There is, however, the small matter of his defeating you in battle. I tried to describe the special circumstances, but she won't listen. My mother is a stubborn woman, and very much a traditionalist."

Arthur arched his eyebrow. He'd forgotten about Durstan's warning to him the night he Challenged Merlin. "Yes, I remember you saying it might change things." He hesitated. "Does it cancel things?" 

"No! Certainly not. If anything, his status has been increased by it. As I said then, he joined the ranks of our warriors the moment he went through with the challenge- whether he won or lost. Mostly, it requires changes to the ceremony itself. There is, however, the small matter that you don't own a ship."

Arthur laughed, then frowned, realizing Durstan was perfectly serious. "I'm sorry… what?"

"In our Kingdom, the status of the marriage is established by the rank of the highest citizen in it. Under normal circumstances, your rank as a Knight King- notice the order of priority- would have established it. It was decided that in fairness, your marriage would not take in the religious status of marrying Emrys himself. That would be unfair to you, because no mortal man can stand on equal footing with that," Durstan explained.

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I remember that from the proposal. I won't pretend to fully understand what it means, but I think I get the basis of it. The proposal often referred to him as Battleguard of Ships."

"At the time, while his religious status would be ignored, there was a subtle allowance that he has, given the nature of his identity, been victorious in sufficient battles to take legitimate claim to Battleguard of Ships, a status equal to a Knight. There are no special requirements to marry royalty, Arthur, but to marry a warrior is different. Warriors must be on equal footing to each other."

Arthur frowned. "I don't understand… by that Gwen would have to be Knighted in order to marry you."

Durstan laughed, shaking his head. "I am not a warrior, Arthur. In marriage, I am a Trade Master first, a Prince second- my requirement to fight in this battle is one of birth, not station, and I did so voluntarily. I could not, for example, ever marry Eliam, our Battle Master, because I am not worthy of his station. In marriage, and only marriage- the order of priority is _what_ you do, not _who_ you are. Gwen is a Queen, though she was born merely a citizen- I mean no offense, but we don't use the word peasant. So our marriage will recognize her authority over my own. You see, now, why I have no interest in being a King of Camelot? By our culture and laws, I would never legally be permitted to lay claim to that title. I could do so only if King was my profession, which it is not. And by Camelot laws, as Gwen is Queen regent and not born royalty, I would equally have no legitimate claim."

"So, when you said you had no throne to give her," Arthur puzzled out, "you literally meant it. That's why you're paying a dowry to Camelot for her, rather than Camelot having to pay you. She has the higher status, and you are paying to be associated with it."

"Yes! Very good, Arthur! It truly wounds my heart that Camelot will not recognize your marriage to my brother, but if it had, then because _you_ are born royalty, he _would_ be permitted to lay claim to the title as _a_ King of Camelot through his marriage to you. Even that title, however, would be secondary to the warrior ranking he holds in Dumnonia."

"When he accepted my Challenge, which is a thing of Knights, and used mortal weapons to do so, he gained warrior status in truth. As Battleguard of Ships, as well as now- if I understand your men correctly- a Battle Mage- who defeated me in single combat, his ranking is now higher than mine as a Knight?" Arthur asked slowly. He nodded to himself, sitting back in his chair. "So it's now I who must pay the dowry."

"A very specific dowry, Arthur. You must prove yourself able to benefit his status in order to be worthy of it. In this case, as you cannot add to his status as Battle Mage, you must add to that of Battleguard of Ships."

"But he doesn't own any either?"

Durstan laughed. "He does, actually. Three of them. Two, now, as one was lost in our skirmish when another small Saxon fleet arrived. Remember that _all_ Bursus owned is his. He is an exceptionally wealthy man, even by our standards. Bursus had a natural knack for trade, as well as ownership of several other enterprises." There was a fleeting look of grief in his eyes at his brother's name, and Arthur lost any doubts he'd ever had as to the Prince knowing why Gwaine had gone missing that day.

Arthur scrubbed his hand over his eyes. "It takes months to build a ship, Durstan."

Ian entered then, frowning at the bed. He brought over a fresh pitcher to put on the desk, shaking his head as he set up the goblets. The glances he kept sending toward the two sleeping figures was enough to figure out what he intended to do next.

"Ian," Arthur growled lightly. "Don't you _dare_ disturb them!"

"But Sire, it's mid-day and my Lady's attendants are looking for her!" Ian objected. "She's already missed an appointment!"

"I'll have your head, Ian!" Arthur threatened the manservant. "Tell them she's in a meeting with the King and her Betrothed."

"We're awake, Arthur," Merlin called from the bed, turning back to speak with Gwen, their low voices murmurs in the background.

Arthur sighed, glaring at the servant. "Ian, I swear I'm going to sack you one of these days. If I choose to indulge my Consort with some much needed rest…"

"You indulge him entirely too much, Sire, in many things. He has a practice session with Leon and Gwaine in an hour. I _will_ see him dressed and fed before that," Ian replied calmly, perfectly secure in knowing that Arthur would never actually dismiss him, no matter his increasing threats to do so. "And _you_ , Sire, have a meeting with the Lothian Representative in half that. You, also, need to eat."

He placed the tray of food he'd brought in on the table and began preparing plates.

Durstan laughed. "For a Kingdom that can be so rigid in so many things, you do seem to tolerate a lot from your paid staff."

"Merlin and the Queen both adore him," Arthur growled. "That's the _only_ reason he hasn't been sacked a hundred times over!" He made sure Ian could hear him, but the manservant pointedly ignored him. He sighed, turning back to the Prince. "Are there specific rules for how I acquire the ship?"

"No, Sire. In fact, I have many. I would happily trade one, but I have a steep price."

Arthur laughed. "Of course you do. As Trade Master, I would assume you've been thinking about this since I issued the challenge."

"I won't deny it, Sire. We've had a report from our land surveyor. He insists there is no land capable of growing the wheat to provide our own citizens the opportunity to make an ale, of which there has been significant interest since our initial purchase from Camelot," Durstan explained. "Dumnonia produces largely meads, which are made with honey."

"You want a plot of Camelot land," Arthur sighed. He considered.

"Your Highness! Really! You're meant to be _eating_ that!" Ian complained loudly. "Your Majesty, surely this is beneath you…"

Arthur chuckled at the minor food fight happening on the bed, feeling his heart swell at the little squeals of laughter. The last years had been rough, and there was much ahead, but he was more than happy to enjoy these moments as they came. He a similar indulging smile on Durstan's expression, and appreciated it. The man was obviously secure in Gwen's feelings for him, and really… if you watched Merlin and Gwen together they truly did come off as brother and sister more than romantic partners. He admitted to taking a petty satisfaction in Ian's frustration as well. He liked and respected the servant well enough to enjoy having some fun with the man. Whether Merlin admitted it or not, the servant was more than capable of holding his own against Arthur in a battle of wits.

"I will accept that trade, Durstan, on the condition that you pay taxes on the land, and a percentage of the yield will belong to Camelot. In exchange Camelot will provide workers to teach your people how to grow and tend it. The land will, of course, be subject to both Camelot and Dumnonian Laws, with Camelot justice taking precedence where they differ. Camelot will forfeit their percentage for the first five years of crops, which will be considered a learning curve and yields may be low." An expensive ship, but from his understanding, owning the ship would give him access to the established trade routes and would fly Camelot colors, especially since Merlin's two ships would fly both flags. The trade for land for access to water would be a new beginning for their Kingdom.

"Excellent, Sire. I'll have my clerks draw up the details. I'm sure mother will be pleased. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I will escort my Lady to her chambers to clean up," Durstan smiled as he stood, bowing.

**MERLIN1010101010MERLIN**

Merlin scrubbed a hand through his hair, confused. "I'm never going to understand this," he complained, shoving away the paperwork involving all the sources of his income and managing his estates. He looked longingly at the floors, wishing he had nothing better to do than scrub them. Not that there was anything to scrub. Ian was meticulous. At the moment, he felt very irritated at his manservant for his efficiency. He flicked a rolled up scrap of paper onto the floor just so it wouldn't mock him with its perfection.

"You will, your Highness. In time," Ian reassured gently. The manservant showed exceptional patience in trying to teach the stubbornly bored warlock.

"Ian, I won't ask you again," Merlin growled.

"Then stop asking, my Lord," Ian fired back. "You _are_ a Prince, whether you like it or not. With that comes certain privileges that are given _because_ of the responsibilities that come with it. Addressing you appropriately is a sign of respect not only for the title, but for the burdens that come with it."

"All those years watching Arthur, and I never clued in to any of this. I hope I'm paying you considerably better than Arthur ever paid me. I can obviously afford a fair salary," he snarked. "And you put up with enough. I'm truly starting to feel awful for how I treated Arthur! I was, in fact, a terrible servant."

Ian chuckled. "I am more than generously compensated, your Highness. The Queen saw to that. Now, pay attention, this report is your expenses for the DeBois Estates, and this one details your income…"

Merlin groaned, wishing not for the first time that there was some magical disaster he needed to look after, or another battle. At this point, he'd take Gaius's leech tank! _Anything_ other than the endless lists of numbers Ian was trying to drill into his head. He had a sinking feeling he was never going to be a very good Prince.

**MERLIN101010101010MERLIN**

Arthur frowned into the darkness of the room, something having woken him suddenly. Then he felt the bed shift again, and looked beside him, his heart breaking.

Merlin was sweat slicked and tossing his head, mumbling in the Ancient Tongue. A nightmare, again. Since nothing was flying around the room, Arthur was grateful to know it wasn't _that_ nightmare, the one of the attacks his lover had suffered through at the hands of his Uncle. A small reassurance since that excluded only one of hundreds of other possibilities.

"Merlin," he whispered, laying a hand on the bare arm carefully. He'd learned a long time ago not to startle his warlock awake. "Merlin!" he called more strongly.

The younger man shot up into a sitting position, calling out "Stop!" as he did so, muscles shaking like they had been strained for hours, chest heaving as he desperately tried to draw air in.

"Easy, Love," Arthur soothed, gathering him into his arms, rubbing his hand quickly over the trembling back. "Shhhh… you're alright. I'm here. Socair síos, mo ghrá. Calm down, my love." He repeated the words over and over again in the mixed languages until he felt the panicked breathing begin to slow.

"Arthur," Merlin gasped as tears flowed down his cheeks, his arms going tightly around his steady King. He felt the fingers carding through his hair, and let that ground him. "Why won't it stop?" he begged.

"What was it?" Arthur asked gently. Merlin shook his head against him, and he frowned. "Merlin, the things you hold inside can have dangerous consequences. You need to get it out."

"I was an awful servant," Merlin sniffled.

Arthur fought down his initial instinct to chuckle. He kissed the boys' temple. "You were never meant to be a servant, Love, it was just a role, a way to act as a bodyguard. And you weren't _that_ terrible." He felt the warlock tense in his arms, and suspected that wasn't what he'd needed to hear. "What's this really about?"

"I'm an awful Prince, too. I can't understand the numbers Ian keeps throwing at me, I'm rubbish with politics…"

"Merlin," Arthur frowned. "Those things take time to learn, and you weren't born to them."

"I was born to kill," Merlin whispered, sobbing. "It's the only thing I seem good at." His shaking got worse as he tried to burrow into his King, tried to hide from his own mind. "Thousands of voices call to me, Arthur… thousands… it's so loud…Why won't they stop? I didn't _want_ to do it... I had no choice... it's so loud..."

Arthur closed his eyes, understanding now what had caused the nightmare, where he'd gone wrong with his bodyguard comment. Ghosts had invaded his lovers mind again. He hated this nightmare. There was never anything he could say to reassure his kind hearted lover turned Battle Mage.

"Oh my Love," he whispered regretfully, tears filling his own eyes. "It's a terrible thing we've done to you."

There was nothing more he could say, nothing more he could do except keep a tight hold of the tortured soul in his arms as he sobbed himself back to sleep. There was no way to protect him from this, for all the power of the Bond.

This nightmare he hated most. Because this one at its core, though the details changed often, was built on years of doing what _had_ to be done. Hated it because he was entirely helpless to prevent it, and there was no way to put up shields against truth. There was nothing he could offer that was louder than the voices of the dead.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

It would never be enough.

**MERLIN101010101010MERLIN**

"Your Highness, I strongly urge you to reconsider this," Ian begged from behind his master, concern etched in every line on his face.

"It's just a meeting, Ian."

"But she shouldn't have called it this way, your Highness, and she did so deliberately for a reason. The King will be most displeased."

Merlin whirled on his manservant, frustrated with him. "First of all, Ian, if you're going to insist on calling me that, then at least have the decency to remember what it means. It means I go where I please, when I please. Unless the King has expressly forbidden it, which he hasn't, then this visit is none of his business!"

"At least let me go with you, your Highness, please," Ian requested. "Something isn't right, and the King is not wrong in his desire to be cautious of her."

"This is between her and I, Ian," Merlin growled. "I don't need Arthur to fight my battles for me, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop hinting that I do!"

He turned away from Ian, continuing on his route, pleased that the man didn't follow him. He was aware he was agitated, aware he shouldn't be doing this- his irritation sufficient to make that clear to him- and he certainly knew how Arthur would feel when- not if- he found out about it. That thought flared his anger again. He was tired of everyone treating him like he needed Arthur's _permission_ to get dressed in the morning! If they wanted to insist on this Prince rubbish then they could at least do him the courtesy of _pretending_ like he made his own decisions. _However foolish they may be_ , a small voice in his head whispered. He shoved it viciously away.

This had to be done. He knew it did, knew it was miracle it had taken so long. But he couldn't silence the part of him that wasn't looking forward to it. Made worse by the fact that Ian wasn't wrong. Nothing about this felt right, and he had that same crawling feeling he always did whenever he was heading into a trap. That voice, too, he shushed, berating himself for being paranoid. She was a busy woman these days, and this, this was long overdue. Her methods were less than ideal, true, but even that he decided had more to do with his irritation of them than suspicion.

His irritation bothered him, too. He wasn't accustomed to being _summoned_ by _anyone_ these days, except Arthur. And Arthur rarely did it unless it was important, usually choosing to track Merlin down himself just to get a break. Had he really come so far from the peasant boy he'd been to be annoyed that a member of _royalty_ had ordered him to appear before them? Not half a decade ago he'd bowed and scraped with the best of them! Who was _he_ to be frustrated by a summons?

He chastised himself, deciding that must be the real reason he had doubts about attending this meeting, almost managing to convince himself that it had nothing to do with the lengths that she gone to in order to keep it secret that worried him, sending a messenger directly to him. Wasn't feeding more into the feeling that Ian had been right… that he should have turned around and gone to get Arthur, or Gwen, rather than answer it himself.

And that thought infuriated him even more. He didn't need their protection! This he had created himself, and this was _his_ to deal with! _His_ responsibility! It wasn't fair to any of them, but ultimately, _he_ had asked this of Arthur, had forced his lover to do something that he was so adamantly against. This was a consequence of that choice, and it was his to meet.

He sighed, steeling himself now that he was outside her door. The fact that it was her personal chambers did not bode well for how she thought this encounter would go. He hoped, however, that he was wrong, that this would simply be an attempt to repair their friendship. He couldn't think of anything else she could possibly want, and so decided to have faith in that. This would be about hope. He'd once cherished her as friend, and he owed her a chance to express her feelings, to explain why the friendship had been lost once she'd made the request to marry Arthur. Yes. This was just another debt he owed.

**MERLIN10101010101010101MERLIN**

Mithian breathed a sigh of relief when Merlin knocked, then swept into his chambers, alone. She'd half expected him to have someone with him, and was pleased he didn't. She'd spent a vast amount of time deciding how to go about this, especially once her counsel had discovered the terms of her agreement with Arthur. Given the King's current attitude toward her, going to him would be pointless. "Merlin, thank you for coming."

"Mithian," he greeted carefully in return, taking a look at her. She'd aged a little, in all of this. There was a tension in her normally easy manner, and her mouth seemed permanently pinched at the corners. Her eyes, however, made him shiver. They danced between coldness and passion. He'd seen that before. "How is your father?" he asked, concerned for a moment that was why she'd called him.

She gave him a half smile. "As well as can be expected, thank you. His mind is nearly gone. My coronation will be taking place in four days. I don't expect those of Camelot will stay for it?"

Merlin shook his head. "I'm afraid not, My Lady. But for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I really did try to heal everything I could. I was hoping my attempts afterward would be more successful, but I'm afraid my window was lost after the first attempt."

"Arthur shouldn't have stopped you."

"He had valid reason, my Lady, in understanding I would be needed to re-take your Kingdom. When he forbade it, he didn't do it lightly." Nor had _she_ been particularly fond of the idea at the time, either, but he refrained from mentioning that. He was beginning to get a sense of how unstable she was- everything about her screamed tension one moment, then the next disappeared. His heart ached for her, for the losses that had driven her to this. She'd had no time to recover, to gather herself, and those wounds had only festered with time. He had no healing for this.

Mithian snorted. "And you always do as Arthur says?"

Merlin tensed, the words too close to his own previous thoughts on the way here, and he forced his irritation down. "Why did you call me here, Princess?" he asked, reminding himself none of it was her fault. At least with Morgana he was actually guilty and deserving of her animosity. He wasn't entirely convinced he was deserving of Mithian's. He felt he owed her a debt, yes, but ultimately, _she_ had made her own choices that had led to this.

The Princess realized she'd stepped wrongly, sighing, flashing him a smile that never came close to being sincere. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I didn't mean that. Arthur has been less than kind to me, in private and in public. I'm frustrated and saddened by the friendship I lost with him. And, with you."

She sat down on a chair. "When Arthur told me the price for this marriage… Merlin, I swear to you I would have taken it all back. I truly only ever wanted an alliance from him, and I never meant to hurt you with it. But… a child! And my only chance at one, no less, if what you saw is true. I couldn't throw that away no matter the cost. Do you understand?"

"I do, Mithian," Merlin answered softly. "I know how much you wanted one, how much you were willing to risk. Destiny is rarely kind to its pawns. It's unfair to you to bear this burden. The vision was clear, however. It can be no one else. The energies I'll be channeling to accomplish it needed two wounded destinations to bridge." He shifted, uncomfortable with the conversation. Arthur had been _furious_ when he'd discovered exactly what the ritual would entail. It hadn't softened his behavior toward the Princess any, despite the fact it wasn't her fault. She would be as much a victim as the two of them. None would even dare consider it were it not for the absolute guarantee of the son that would come- a son they all felt was worth any sacrifice.

"Is that all I am, Merlin? A wounded destination?"

"I'm sorry, but yes," Merlin answered honestly. "Through no fault of your own, I'll confess. I simply can't reconcile what needs to happen with the way I feel. It's not your fault, I _know_ that, but a small part of me can't help feel that it is- because you asked him. There was always a chance you wouldn't have done."

"And what about how _I_ feel?"

"Mithian, for the friendship we once had, I mourn that loss, and I'm deeply sorry for it. But I warned you before the battle that there would be a price to pay. I'm merely a tool of Destiny, not the one who writes it. I wish things could be different, but they aren't, and there's nothing I can do about it. You are welcome to withdraw from this agreement at any time. Neither Arthur nor I would think any less of you. It's a lot to ask of anyone."

"Is that the only solution, Merlin? Do it or don't, no in between? No compromise?"

Merlin shook his head. "There isn't, I'm afraid. The rules we're bending are ancient and normally rigidly set. We've been given an extremely rare window of opportunity, but ultimately, the decision is ours. Arthur and I will respect yours, regardless of how we personally feel about it, you need to know that."

"And if I choose not to go through with it? Will that restore our friendships? Restore my good name in Camelot?"

"I... No, Mithian. It won't." He wouldn't lie to her. He couldn't exactly explain why, but it was a truth he knew in his heart.

He watched it happen. Watched as her normally kind brown eyes went dark, watched her body tense. He wasn't coming close to saying the right things in this. And she'd changed so much since the battle, he was falling into every trap she set for him. Better than most, he understood losing too much, knew what it could do to those not strong enough to bear it, but this... this was heartbreaking.

"Why? Because _Arthur_ is angry? Because _Arthur_ doesn't want to share his favorite plaything?" she snarled at him, ignoring his flinch. "Because _Arthur_ can agree to marry me and then treat me like the dirt under his feet? Like I'm nothing but some royal bitch to bear his whelp? I _will_ marry him, Merlin, but it is up to _me_ to decide whether I pay the price afterwards. Neither of you can force me into it. I can get everything I want and leave you with nothing."

"This isn't the way to do this." He wasn't sure which was rising faster, his anger or his fear. He needed to leave… now. Before things were said or done that couldn't be taken back. He'd tried, but there was nothing left to salvage. She'd become a survivor, ready to sacrifice all to get her own way. Merlin turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm, using his own momentum to swing them so she was closer to the door, her back to it. It would force Merlin to go around her to get to it.

"No! You don't get to run away!" she yelled at him. "Neither of you have taken into account what _I_ have lost through all of this! If you're going to play the victim, Merlin, then the least you're going to do is convince Arthur to change the conditions of the agreement!" she commanded him, tightening her hand enough to bruise him. "His attitude has cost me with the other dignitaries! Wiggle your arse a little more, if need be, but get me what I want!"

"Mithian, I'm sorry you've been hurt in all this, but I don't have the power to change his mind. I've already asked him to be kinder to you, at least in public. And I know Gwen has made sincere efforts to back you up, giving considerable advantage to Nemeth. If you're losing track with the representatives, it's of your own doing, not ours," Merlin said softly but firmly. Her choice of words too closely related to the voices in his mind that had been screaming at him of late. He tried to push them down, knowing the dark places they wanted to lead him to. "Please let go. This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come."

"Alone, you mean," she raged, her temper once again in full control of her. "I'm tired of being treated like I committed some terrible crime! The request I made was politically strategic, nothing more. I don't have the ability to see the future, Merlin, and I don't deserve to be humiliated in public. You _will_ change his behavior toward me, and you _will_ see to it that the child is raised here regardless of our stance on magic! You _owe_ me that much, at least!" She tightened her grip.

She'd tried to be sweet about it, but her temper was fueled by the frustration of being pushed by the council, being pushed by her father to honor his legacy regarding magic. If sweet wouldn't work, then command would! This was her only chance, she knew. Merlin was the only bridge she had access to, and she didn't care if it burned once its purpose was served. If that friendship was truly gone, then there were other ways to get what she needed. She pushed back the part of her mind that whispered of all Camelot had done, that the only reason she still had a Kingdom was because of them- choosing instead to focus on her father's voice, begging her to keep the Kingdom strong, no matter what it took, no matter what she had to do.

"I'm well aware of my debts, Mithian. But I can't!" Merlin growled. "I've told you, I don't have that kind of sway over him. Please let go. I don't want to hurt you," he asked again, trying to fight down his magic, which had risen instinctively in defense. He closed his eyes to force the molten gold down, reminding himself she hadn't been treated fairly in all this and was deserving of her right to be angry. It wasn't helping. Her hand on his arm burned as it twisted viciously, hurting him the only way she could, calling up his defense instincts. He truly had no desire to hurt her more. "Let go."

"You do and you're lying to me- too much of a coward to upset your precious Arthur! I saw it the very first time we met! Yours is the _only_ opinion he cares about, even before you became his favorite bed warmer!" She yanked hard on his arm. "You _will_ do this! Or so help me I'll have you executed! You're still in _my_ Kingdom! Arthur will replace you quickly enough." A desperate threat. She could do it, of course, but her much needed alliance with Arthur would be broken the moment she did. Still. The flicker of hurt in his eyes had been enough.

She had only the split second warning of seeing Merlin's eyes widen in fear before she felt the steel at her throat.

"Let. Him. Go." Arthur pronounced each word carefully, and in it she could hear tightly contained rage. She dropped her hand as if burned.

"Arthur-" Merlin started- prepared to defend her even as her awful words stirred his magic violently inside him, brought flashes of memory of having so often been used before about him- but stopped when cold, ruthless, gold crowned blue eyes met his.

"Leave, Merlin. Wait for me outside." There was nothing in his voice or the coil of his body to indicate it was a suggestion.

"She didn't-"

"NOW!" Arthur commanded, and Merlin fled, fearing pushing his lover any further and still struggling to get his magic under control. He knew that icy tone. There would be no reasoning with his lover.

"Arthur, we were just talking," Mithian defended quickly, all too familiar with the temper of her future husband. For all she had been willing to do whatever it took to gain Merlin's influence over the man, she wasn't willing to give up the power that came with her marriage to the High King, nor the baby that would come from it. He couldn't have been there long enough to hear much, given Merlin's reaction on seeing him. "It's been a while, after all. And we did say we'd keep things friendly."

"Hear me well, Princess," Arthur hissed into her ear, disabusing her of hiding her intent in the meeting. "As of the _second_ you laid a hand on him, you are _nothing_ more than a broodmare- which is the _only_ thing keeping your head on your shoulders! If you _ever_ go near him, or threaten him, again, I'll put you down like the bitch you are, do you understand me?"

She swallowed, believing the deadly calm of his tone and voice, the barely restrained promise of the brutality he was capable of. "Yes," she whispered. She breathed a sigh of relief when the sword was removed from her, and he turned to leave.

"The terms of this alliance are already in place. If you don't like it, by all means, call it off," Arthur challenged as he left, slamming the door behind him.

**MERLIN10101101010101MERLIN**

Merlin was leaning over his knees, breathing hard, eyes squeezed shut, when Arthur slammed the door behind him in the corridor.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?" Arthur barked immediately, using the flat of his hand against his lover's shoulder to push him roughly up against the wall.

"Arthur… don't…" Merlin panted. He opened his eyes, and heard Arthur gasp.

"Merlin," Arthur said, carefully composed now, immediately removing his hand. "You _need_ to calm down." His lovers' eyes were flashing between their normal azure and the magical gold like a storm. He could feel the gathering power in the air, now that he'd taken a moment to pay attention to something other than his anger. There was sweat trickling down Merlin's face as he wrestled with the forces inside him.

"Trying," Merlin gasped, closing his eyes again. He leaned forward again, as if making his body smaller could somehow work to better contain the power inside him.

Arthur took his arm- gently- and fast walked him down the hall to their chambers. Once in the door, Merlin threw himself to all fours on the floor. Objects immediately began to lift into the air as the wind picked up. Clothing flew around the room, pottery smashing into walls.

Blue flames sprang up around the struggling warlock, then died out, then sprang up again. Arthur recognized all of it. It was the same out of control expulsion that happened during the warlock's nightmares- only this appeared _much_ more powerful.

"Bloody hell," Arthur cursed. "What did she _say_ to you?" He ducked as dishes flew by him, shattering nearly to dust with the strength they hit the bedposts. He tried to push down his own rage as he focused on his lover, tried to silence the nagging in his mind of what might have happened had Ian not come to get him, had not told him what was going on.

"Leave…" Merlin gasped out, tears leaking from his eyes. He didn't have the breath to give details, to tell his King this was so much worse than he was accustomed to dealing with, and he wasn't at all confident in his ability to contain it. He hadn't used his magic much since returning to life for the second time, but it shouldn't be like this. Shouldn't be so hard to control. There was no binding spell this time! Why was it so _strong_? There was so much of it! It wasn't like before, with Morgana, or in the Cave or any other time when he was calling on all those different sources. This was just one source, just his own. For the first time in his life, it felt strange to him.

"Not going to happen," Arthur returned without hesitation. He desperately wanted to slip into the Bond, use it to calm the warlock, shield him, but he was still quaking with rage himself. He didn't think adding _that_ fuel to the current firestorm would be of any help. "Just like your nightmares, Merlin. We can get through this."

Merlin shook his head, but couldn't answer his lover. Not like his nightmares… those he gained control of as soon as he returned fully to waking. This… Agravaine's voice echoed in his mind, mixing with hers, with other voices, trying to return him to a darkness he'd thought long carefully contained. He winced as his magic swelled again, trying to protect him from the attacks it had failed to previously, not understanding the danger was only in memories. Mithian's words had brought them too close to the surface. Her predatory eyes following him everywhere had begun the whispers. He'd been a fool to go alone!

He cried out when Arthur's gentle touch on his shaking shoulder made him startle, letting loose a tendril of his magic, the floor beneath them beginning to shake. Too strong! He tried desperately to call back the little that had gotten loose, but the building only shook more violently as he almost lost his grip on the rest of it. Gods why was it so strong?

Arthur took his hand away immediately, understanding _he_ had caused the increase in output. He wished now he'd killed her, but he forced that thought away. He startled as thunder could be heard in the distance, cracking violently even as the winds outside began to howl. The shaking building around them groaned under the strain.

"Merlin, I don't how to help you," Arthur called to the younger man. "Tell me what to do!" he begged, desperate. "You're going to bring the whole castle down on us!"

Merlin coughed as he tried to draw air in too quickly, feeling like he was going to shake apart, tried desperately to concentrate on cutting off the flow that was going from him to the ground and storm. His efforts only made it fight back harder and he cried out, trying to curl further into himself. The more he tried to fight the immense build inside him, the more determined it became to be loosed. He'd felt similar with the binding spell, but he understood on an instinctive level that there would be no control if he let this go, if he stopped fighting it.

Arthur swore as the balcony outside cracked and fell, and screams were beginning to be heard outside. Not his Kingdom, not his people, but he was still a King, and his lover had become a threat. He had no choice. "I'm sorry, Merlin, but I have to stop this," he whispered, turning his sword around in his hand, raising it. He hesitated.

"Do it," Merlin cried, turning storm swirling eyes toward his King, nodding.

Arthur brought the hilt of the sword to the back of the younger man's head.


	2. Going Home: Chapter 2/11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Slash ahead! Also, one thing that's been nagging at me… the show often spoke of Merlin's potential, and how he hadn't reached it yet. But they never said how. So, having been one with the universe, I would think, would count as a pretty big and sudden boost! So, tidying up that little loose end...
> 
> MERLIN101010101010MERLIN

Arthur scrubbed his hand over his face. "The _whole_ city?"

Durstan nodded sadly. "People are terrified, but the damage was minimal. There are rumors of an attack, but both Dumnonian soldiers and Camelot Knights are doing their best to manage those. There isn't much they can do, however, around the knowledge that Emrys and Princess Mithian had... an argument... and Nemeth soldiers are under orders to remain silent on the affair."

Artemis shook his head. "No, that kind of power shouldn't be possible anymore. He purged the source of magic, balanced it, in his fight with Morgana. No one should be capable of such a thing anymore."

Gwen looked at him, nodding confirmation to the Prince's report. "The whole city, Artemis. I was in the market getting some last minute things before we left. Maybe because he was accessing other magics when he did it? It put him in a bubble of some kind?"

Artemis considered. "He may have used himself as an anchor for it, a stabilizer." He shook his head in frustration. "We'll likely never know. _What_ he did was impossible… the how will be lost forever, since Arthur has blocked off access to that information. If he's unstable, however, and giving off that kind of power… it's best we leave sooner rather than later."

Arthur nodded in agreement. He'd been thinking much the same thing. "I'll get Ian to start packing our things. Merlin and I will leave first thing in the morning. The rest can catch up. With me gone, there shouldn't be any reason for more delays. Between the binding spell fiasco and now this, I can't think of anyone who would object, no matter what business remains unfinished."

"I'll accompany you, Sire. I'm all but ready to go," Durstan put out. "As are most of my men."

Arthur sighed. "Gwen, I'll leave you in charge of splitting up who's going back to Camelot, and who is coming with us to Dumnonia. Join us as quickly as you can, but Artemis is right. Until we know what's going on with him, the further away from people we can get the better. And Gwen, find out what _exactly_ Mithian said to him, word for word, to set him off. Artemis-"

"Sire!" Ian called from the bedside, where he'd been changing the cooling cloth. "He's waking."

Arthur moved immediately, taking Ian's place on the side of the bed, looking at the manservant. "Start packing our things, Ian. We leave in the morning."

"As you wish, Sire."

"Arthur?" Merlin groaned, wincing as he lifted his head to sit up.

"Hey, no, don't move yet," Arthur instructed gently, putting a hand on Merlin's chest to keep him down.

"What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

Merlin closed his eyes, leaning back into the pillow, trying to think beyond the ache in his head. He remembered being irritated, remembered yelling at Ian, then talking to… his eyes flew open. "Mithian! Oh god! Did I hurt her?" he looked at his lover in a panic, reaching to grab his arm. "Is she alright?"

"She's fine, Merlin," Arthur soothed, swallowing down the anger that came with her name. "So, you don't remember what she said to you?"

Merlin frowned, his hand automatically going to the place on his arm she'd bruised. "I do. She has a right to her anger, Arthur." He had to believe that. He felt his magic swirl lazily inside him, and clamped it down quickly. He _had_ to believe it! It was too dangerous not.

"Merlin," Arthur growled in frustration. "You just about destroyed the entire city because of how far she pushed you."

Merlin's eyes were wide. "I… the whole _city_?" He remembered Arthur shouting about how he'd bring down the whole castle, remembered being so out of control that he knew with every fiber of his being devastation would follow if he wasn't stopped. _Where_ had all that power come from?

Arthur nodded seriously, his face lined with concern. "What is going on with your magic?"

"I… I don't know. I didn't call for it, Arthur… I'd never hurt her with magic, no matter what she said or did. It just came… and it was so _strong_ … and her words were so close to Agravaine's. I swear, I didn't call for it! It was trying to defend me from the mess in my mind."

Arthur put a gentle hand on his arm, moving the other back and forth across the chest it was still resting on. "Calm down, Merlin. It's alright."

"Merlin," Artemis called from beside the bed. "Have you used it at all since the binding spell?"

Merlin shook his head. "Not much. Little things, here and there. Things have been quiet. There's been no need for it." He avoided the old druid's eyes. He tensed when Artemis moved closer to him, but relaxed when the physician pushed his head to the side, inspecting the minor wound at the back of it, wincing when he touched it.

Arthur saw the wince, hanging his head a little with guilt. "I'm sorry, Merlin, I had no choice."

"You did the right thing, Arthur. A moment more and I would have lost complete control." Merlin grabbed his lovers' hand reassuringly. "Thank you!"

"This will heal quickly enough," Artemis nodded. "Like most scalp wounds, it bled a lot but very little damage was done. Arthur was very precise with his strike."

"I'm fine," Merlin grinned, moving to sit up again- this time being stopped by two hands.

"I would, to be safe, recommend some rest," Artemis insisted, catching Arthur's eyes with his own before taking a potion bottle from his robes. "Drink this, it will help relieve the pain."

Arthur stayed with the warlock until he fell back asleep, then moved to join the others still standing on the other side of the room. "What is it?"

"He lied to me just now, when I asked about his magic," Artemis replied instantly.

Arthur nodded, sighing. "I know. He lied to me for years. I know every tell he's got. The lie came in the reasons for not using it, not the answer that he hasn't been."

"Sire," Durstan started hesitantly. "We think he's afraid of it. I've seen it before in exceptionally talented sorcerers, when their talents grew beyond their mastery of it. And Gwen tells me this is not the first time it's happened."

Arthur shot a look at Gwen, which she stubbornly met. "That was different. Before he was afraid it was evil, and even that was mixed with a whole lot else that was going on in his mind. I'm not sensing anything near that this time, now that I've calmed down enough to use the Bond. I feel fear, yes, and a genuine mess of emotions taking him back to those attacks, but not darkness, not like that."

"When he expelled the magic after the Binding spell, I believe it gave him a small taste of the new level of his power, and it frightened him," Artemis explained. "He's accustomed to his power growing a little at a time as he worked to protect you, and Camelot. The battle with Morgana, however, accelerated his potential greatly. His magic has always worked on an instinctive level, and never more so than during that fight and the moments that followed it. I don't think he truly understood what he was Calling for, knowing only that it _would_ come to him. While still only a fraction of what he wielded that day, his abilities now are considerably more than they were prior. If Mithian pushed him into a position of having to fight both his memories _and_ his power, it would have reduced his sense of control even more."

"So, what do we do?" Arthur asked impatiently.

"Let me work with him while we're on the road, Sire," Artemis requested. "He needs to learn to trust it again, to trust that Emrys will not harm anyone he loves. I fear that is very much at the root of this. He sees Emrys and himself as two separate beings, which may once have been true. Those moments when he transcended however, the two became one. He must learn to reconcile that."

"And you think _you_ can teach him?" Arthur answered doubtfully.

"All I ask is that you don't interfere with my methods," Artemis nodded. "I can't promise they will be pleasant and you have a tendency to try and protect him, sometimes even from what he needs most."

Arthur took a deep breath, then offered a short nod of agreement. "I'll give it a chance, but Artemis- if he asks sincerely for it to stop, I will put an end to it. And I suggest you remember how dangerous he is when he feels cornered."

"He nearly leveled a city by _accident_ , Arthur. I don't think it's possible for him to be any more dangerous than he already is."

**MERLIN1010101011011010MERLIN**

"Are you _insane_?" Merlin's furious yell carried from the woods behind them, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"If that old druid isn't careful, Merlin's going to set him on fire just to spite him," he groaned.

Three nights so far of this 'training' since they'd left Nemeth. Three nights and two days of the Physician constantly pushing at Merlin, forcing him to use his magic. Three nights of watching his lover's temper get worse and worse.

He knew what Artemis was trying to do, understood it was necessary, but he was starting to think the druid was pushing Merlin too far. The warlock was a well of patience and understanding, but most vicious when backed into a corner. If the druid continued this way, something in the younger man would lash out. He'd tried to warn Artemis of that. Given how things were progressing, he didn't think Artemis had listened. He jumped when the sound of a tree exploding came from the area the two men were in.

"Relax, Mate," Gwaine reassured. "I'm sure Artemis knows the risks of pissing off our warlock."

"Maybe," Arthur nodded, glancing backwards. "But I doubt he understands the risks of pissing off _Mer_ lin!"

Leon and Gwaine burst out laughing, along with some of the other Camelot Knights. Prince Durstan sat looking very confused, so Arthur had to sit and try not to blush as the two recounted several of Merlin's revenge-against-Arthur stories to him.

It was about two hours later- with the Dumonian looking truly horrified- that Merlin came tearing through the brush, heading directly for the tent that was set up off to the side for added privacy. A moment later, Ian was violently shoved out of it.

Gwaine raised his eyebrows at his King. "Well, good luck with that mate," he grinned.

"Thanks," Arthur spit back as he rose, sighing.

**MERLIN1010101010101010MERLIN**

Arthur frowned when he ducked into his tent, watching the warlock pacing furiously back and forth. Unfortunately, not an uncommon sight these days. Merlin was constantly on edge, constantly trying to battle what was inside him even while Artemis pushed. What's more, the warlock was aware of it, and hated it in himself, and was angry at his constant failures. His lover was a coiled spring, needing only the barest touch of pressure to come apart. For all that, the tree _had_ exploded. Arthur hated everything about this, but progress was, apparently being made.

"Difficult session?" he asked gently, sitting on the cot.

Merlin spun on him. "That man is trying to drive me crazy! Or kill himself! Or all of you! He has no idea what he's toying with and he won't _listen_!" Merlin huffed in fury. "If he throws one more useless proverb at me about the center being the calmest point, I'll show him just how messy _his_ center is! At this rate, I won't even feel guilty about it."

"He's trying to help you." Arthur kept his voice soft, but he knew... something had to give sooner rather than later. He could see the signs. Had seen it in Knights before. He needed to think of a way to take the edge off, or things would go very badly for both his friend and lover.

"I don't need _that_ kind of help!" Merlin snarled at him.

Arthur was up in a heartbeat, grabbing the younger man by the shoulders. "Then what kind of help do you need? If you can tell me, Love, I'll put an end to this instantly." He could _feel_ the younger man trembling with rage. "But you _do_ need help."

"I... I…"

"Anything you need, just say it," Arthur murmured, leaning over to swipe his lips lightly along the porcelain throat. "Anything"

Merlin growled then, grabbing his face to force it upwards, reaching to crush his mouth against furiously moving lips. He used his thumb on his lovers' chin to force Arthur's mouth open, thrusting his tongue inside and demanding a response Arthur was only too happy to give.

Arthur wrenched his mouth away, gasping, his head falling back in pleasure when Merlin immediately went for his throat, nipping along it, testing his boundaries with each nip being firmer than the last. When he received nothing but encouragement, he bit hard on Arthur's jaw, groaning when it was allowed.

Arthur moved his hands to their laces, but a flash of gold jerked his arms behind his back, an invisible rope securing his wrists together, and he couldn't stop the growl that came from him, his arousal launching to new heights as his own primal need was suppressed and restrained.

Merlin stumbled back a step then, looking horrified by what he'd done. Before he had a chance to undo it, Arthur surged forward, grabbing his lips with his own, rolling his hips against the warlock's to show his own arousal hadn't dimmed with it. "It's alright, Merlin," he murmured. "I trust you." He tested the strength of the bonds, shivering when he found there would be no escaping them. "Keep going," he begged. "I _trust_ you," he repeated.

He used his tongue to grab at Merlin's again, tangling it with his own, groaning when the boy moved against him once more, somehow completely submitting in the molding of his graceful frame to his own bulk and simultaneously having complete control as he devoured his restrained King.

The combination hardened him even further, and he was relieved when Merlin's eyes flashed again, their clothing ripping away from both of them. Arthur gasped as they were suddenly skin against skin, and that gold he was so absolutely in love with seeing brightened his lover's eyes. He couldn't stop himself from bucking his girth against the hips pressed tightly to his, shuddering at the boys' own moan.

Merlin turned them, sitting Arthur down on the edge of the cot. Grabbing his length, he wiped it across Arthur's lips as he stood in front of him, calling out when the King didn't hesitate to open his mouth. Merlin thrust gently in, grabbing the back of Arthur's head to steady himself as his lover eagerly swallowed him, hollowing his cheeks to create suction, taking him even in further than he'd originally intended, grunting when he hit the back of his King's throat.

Arthur felt those hands in his hair, humming in appreciation when they forced him to speed up, to suck harder, felt his throat being bruised once he'd encouraged it. He desperately wanted to touch himself, could feel himself leaking, but a subtle shift of his shoulders told him for all the sable head was tossed back in pleasure, the warlock hadn't lost any of his concentration on the spell. His arms were still bound tightly, and that knowledge along with the incredible length being harshly thrust in and out of his mouth as Merlin _took_ his own pleasure from him made him cry out around it as he spilled onto himself.

Merlin gave his own cry when he saw his lover's release. He removed himself, pushing the man back, leaning down to capture those swollen lips again even as they panted for air. He deliberately put weight on his King, forcing him to _feel_ the arms still locked behind him in the hard muscles of his back, the pull on those broad shoulders. Felt Arthur raise his leg and press it against him, trying to get any sense of touch he could. Without hesitating, Merlin leaned over to the inner thigh, flicking his tongue against it, then made sure his teeth left a deep impression in the tender skin, enjoying Arthur's howl of mixed pain and pleasure.

Punishment dealt, he rose again, left bite marks all along Arthur's collarbone, marking with teeth and sucking everywhere his lips touched. He saw the hardened pink of Arthur's nipple, and couldn't stop himself from raking his teeth across it, thrilled with feeling his lover's body arch against him as he did so, his other hand moving toward the other, pinching it and giving a solid pull.

He shivered when he felt Arthur's renewed arousal bucking into him. Gods he loved this man! His strong King, so willing to give anything he asked. Unable to resist, he leaned over, giving the muscular side of his golden god an aggressive bite.

"Oh Gods yes!" Arthur cried out, the bite followed by soothing lips whispering against the sensitive skin. He wanted desperately to touch the younger man, struggling a little against the ties at his wrists. He tossed his head when his lover raked surprisingly sharp nails over his chest, creating deep red welts as they went, the sting of it bringing him close to the edge again. "Yes!" he hissed.

He felt Merlin grab his shaft, and he shook his head. "Take me, Merlin," he grunted. "Or release me." He needed more, and he was content to get it either way the warlock chose. He groaned when he felt those long fingers enter him easily, already relaxed from his earlier release. He was frustrated with the gentle care the warlock was taking with this and moved his hips, thrusting those fingers deeper into him.

He felt the sweat on his skin sting in the marks his lover had made, and he desperately wanted to feel that sting in the stretch. Merlin, bless him, was always slightly afraid of hurting him, but he _wanted_ the aggression that the warlock had been doling out. "Now, Merlin," he pleaded.

Hesitating only a moment, Merlin lined himself up, then entered swiftly, surprised at how easily his lover took him. He panted as he tried to wait a moment, but Arthur took it from him by moving his hips upward, sinking him in even further.

"AH Yes!" Arthur growled out, desperately creating sensation by pushing his arousal against Merlin's abdomen, crying out in frustration when Merlin arched his uniquely flexible body in such a way as to bend away from the contact without losing any depth in his penetration. He couldn't stop the jerk of his body, only just holding back another climax, as the boy reached down and gently slapped his jewels harshly in retaliation. "AH!"

Merlin drew himself out until only the tip of him remained, then thrust back in, hard, crying out when Arthur begged him for more. He repeated it until he was driving himself in and out as hard and fast as his body could go, feeling his own release mounting. "Arthur," he panted, asking. He could feel his King holding back on his release, could feel how ready he was to go over the edge.

"More, Merlin," Arthur demanded, knowing what he wanted to feel, determined to hold off until he got it. Merlin pulled out then, his eyes flashing gold, releasing the ties around Arthur's wrists, keeping a steady grip on Arthur's rounds to prevent him from reaching out to touch, a firm tug a not so subtle reminder of the consequences when he'd tried. Once the King was turned over and on all fours, Merlin didn't hesitate in ramming himself back in, sinking fully to his base. "MERLIN!" Arthur cried out, _finally_ getting the combination of impact and strength he'd been craving. "Yes!"

Encouraged, Merlin set a punishing pace, Arthur surging back to meet his thrusts hard enough that there would likely be bruises in the morning. The warlock stretched a hand out and raked his nails along the powerful back even as he continued his barrage, changing his angle to hit that sweet spot inside.

Arthur arched his back into those nails, his full body shuddering with the sensation of it. "Ah! Again!" The second time those nails drew blood, he was sure, and it drove him completely over the edge to a violent completion, calling out Merlin's name as he spilled, his entire body jerking with the strength of it.

Merlin fell over with him, spilling deeply inside as he cried out, leaning in so deep his forehead was against his King's marked back, riding out the waves of Arthur's still spasming body until his King was utterly spent. The shuddering release seemed to take all of his pent up rage with it. He withdrew and let his body collapse next to Arthur's, struggling to calm his breathing.

"By the gods, Merlin," Arthur breathed in satisfaction, rolling over so that he was flat on his back, groaning as the welts moved against the sheet, and he purposely rolled his shoulders to feel the pleasant soreness of them. He looked over, and delighted in the view. Reaching out an arm, he pulled his still shaking lover over to him, enjoying how the long body fit perfectly against his. He loved feeling the boy ride out the aftershocks against him.

He shivered as he felt those long fingers curiously explore the welts they had left on his chest, brushing lightly over deep bite marks, as if just discovering them for the first time. The thought that the boy had made them purely on instinct, without being consciously aware of the damage, made his belly burn all over again. "Careful," he warned. "Or you won't get any sleep tonight. I'm close enough to go again as it is."

"I don't know…" Merlin shook his head against him. He knew, of course, that his lover enjoyed it rough, but he himself had never gone that far. Never gone beyond a few light bites. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to not only so severely mark the man, but also bind him! He reached down and fingered the deep impression on his King's thigh. Never gone that far!

"Do you feel better?" Arthur asked genuinely, shuddering at the sting of the touch. "Because if that was all you needed, I might deliberately get Artemis to rile you up again."

"I feel guilty," Merlin answered honestly. "I don't like hurting you. I don't know why I did."

Arthur huffed, took Merlin's hand and placed it on his girth, which was already semi hardened once more. "Does _that_ feel like pain? Merlin, that was… intoxicating." He groaned when those fingers wrapped around him, mixing with the recent visual of his lover using him for his own pleasures. "To see you taking like that…" he panted, automatically moving his hips in time with the hand pumping him.

Arthur closed his eyes, deliberately shifting himself so the welts on his back shifted the sheets underneath, feeling the burn of them, enjoying it. "Ah! Oh yes," he grunted, wanting that hand to move faster but understanding Merlin needed this to be gentle. It didn't matter. It wouldn't take much this time. All of the recent marks mixing with sweat provided an overall soreness that he was riding right along with Merlin's firm grip.

This time he _could_ touch, and he ran his fingers lightly over the scarred back, and up the sensitive sides, gasping when he could feel the shivered response to his touch against him. Every inch of his abused skin was still on fire and the slightest brush was fueling it. He moved his head, taking a hold of Merlin's lips, using his fingers to gently trace his jaw, then run down the elegant throat.

Merlin's moan against his lips was his undoing and he arched, spilling again over the hand that milked every drop from him, even as Merlin swallowed his cry, forcing him to breathe through his nose as he rode out another climax. Held him there until he stopped shuddering, until his breathing was no longer panting.

Finally pulling back, Arthur ran his fingers over those fine cheek bones. "You were exquisite in your beauty, Merlin, in the taking," he whispered reverently.

Merlin blushed, reaching for a towel to clean his hand. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about you taking your tunic off in public for a few days," he chuckled. "I can get you a salve from Artemis. He's used to getting them for me when you get a little rough. Just be careful about undressing in front of Ian. Not that he'd gossip, of course, but he more than capable of giving entire lectures with a look."

He missed Arthur's arched eyebrow when he leaned over to toss the soiled rag now that they were both cleaned up.

The next morning, Merlin stretched as he woke, disappointed to find himself alone, but not surprised. Arthur often let him sleep in when they were on the road, especially since all he had to do was get himself dressed. Ian looked after anything else. He appreciated it. Especially today. It was the first morning he'd woken not dreading the day ahead since they'd left, and he honestly wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Most days he woke on edge, finding it more and more difficult to control his temper as Artemis pushed him too far the night before. This morning he felt infinitely more balanced. He hadn't lied- he _did_ feel immensely guilty for hurting his lover. But during… during had been different. The more Arthur could take, the more he'd pushed. In the light of day, he felt his guilt increase. Arthur had taken every bit of his aggression and thoroughly enjoyed it, it seemed. It certainly wouldn't hurt the man to leave his shirt on in public for the few days it would take for the marks to heal. But there was a part of him that wondered… Arthur could never deny him anything, and in a way he _had_ asked. Had he truly enjoyed it, or merely tolerated it because Merlin had needed it? His lover was more than talented enough to 'perform' regardless of circumstances, so that wasn't enough to go by.

"Good morning, My Lord," Ian greeted, knowing by now it was best to announce his presence as quickly as possible. Merlin had reacted badly in the past to being startled on waking. He picked up the ripped clothing, shaking his head but didn't say a word.

"Hmmm, good morning, Ian," Merlin replied. He sat up, lifting his nose to smell the air. "Is that breakfast?"

"Indeed it is, your Highness. And if you want some, you should probably hurry. The amount those Knights can eat and still stay fit astonishes me!"

Merlin chuckled as he dressed quickly. "Believe me, I know. I used to make double before I realized they will eat until the end of the pot, no matter how much is in it!"

He ducked out of the tent, looking down as he adjusted the front laces on his tunic, jumping and looking up in surprise when the camp suddenly erupted in applause and wolf whistles.

His mouth dropped in shock as there, in the middle of camp- completely shirtless- was Arthur, every welt, scratch, and bite mark _proudly_ on display as he ate his breakfast, grinning and easily joking with the other Knights.

Merlin just about died on the spot when his King threw him a wink!


	3. Going Home: Chapter 3/11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: Slashy yummy ahead. Also, was re-reading the series to make note of any loose ends that might need tying up, and noticed a somewhat unintentioned habit of Merlin's, lol. So am addressing it here!
> 
> MERLIN101010101010MERLIN

"We'll be entering Dumnonia later afternoon tomorrow," Durstan announced as he seated himself next to Arthur by the fire.

"Good," Arthur nodded. He glanced again toward the woods, clearly distracted.

Durstan shared a look with the other Knights. "As I'm sure you know, it's tradition to enter naked," he dropped casually.

Arthur nodded again. "Tradition is important," he answered absently.

Leon sighed. "Arthur!" he barked, daring to stretch out his leg to kick that of his King.

Arthur startled, looking at his Knight, then gave a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry. It's too quiet. It's making me nervous."

"Or maybe your new beauty marks worked," Gwaine answered with a laugh. "He hasn't been nearly as tightly wound the last two days."

Arthur grinned at the memory of the other night, then shook his head. "Not an entirely unpleasant sacrifice to make if that's true," he admitted.

The nail lines on his chest were already gone, as were quite a few of the bites Merlin tested his limits with. Those on his back, the deeper bites on his side, collarbone, and thigh would take a little longer, but were also well on their way to healing. He'd been disappointed to wake this morning and find the pleasant sting gone.

"You almost sound disappointed," Leon teased, blushing to his hairline.

"I've never been ashamed of my affairs, Leon, and I'm not about to start now. I'm quite sure many will bear similar marks after having been gone so long," Arthur chuckled, winking at Gwaine. The man had never been shy about showing off _his_ exploits, either. "So, yes. Dumnonia. Naked, you said?"

Durstan laughed, shaking his head. "As we ride victorious, there will be quite the procession. Once we enter the border, it would be courteous to stop for the night, give the messengers time to spread the word. I regret my Lady was unable to accompany us. She, as much as anyone, deserves the recognition."

Arthur shrugged. "We've been gone this long. Why don't we just make camp at the border and give them time to get to us? They can't be more than a day or two behind. She would have sent most back to Camelot to be with their families, so they shouldn't be traveling too slowly."

Durstan nodded. "We could, if you're willing. I can send one of my men ahead with the news. Thank you, Sire."

Just then, Merlin came back to camp, as always heading straight for the tent. He didn't seem to be nearly as agitated as before, but he was never in the mood to socialize afterwards. Artemis followed a few moments later, smiling as he joined them around the fire.

"How's he doing?" Arthur asked quietly, pleased when Gwaine began to loudly tease Durstan about looking pretty for their entry into his home Kingdom, ribbing the Prince over how lonely he'd be once the Dumnonian ladies got a look at _him_.

"Considerably improved. I believe he has the control he needs, now. Whatever you did, it calmed him a great deal, gave him focus. You should talk to him, though," Artemis advised. "I can practically taste the guilt in the air around him. The more control he demonstrated the worse it got."

Arthur nodded, patting the old druid's knee, and rose, saying good night as he always did whenever Merlin returned.

When he entered the tent, he saw Ian throwing concerned glances at the warlock who was sitting on the cot, his knees pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped around his legs. The posture itself wasn't unusual, but the vacant stare straight ahead was.

With a wave he dismissed the manservant for the night, and sat on the edge of the cot, his back to his lover. "Artemis tells me you've got control again?" he asked lightly, taking off his boots as he spoke.

Merlin nodded. "I do, I think. It's not overwhelming me when I call it anymore. I feel… balanced, again. Like _I_ control _it_ rather than it controlling me. I still have to be careful, still have to be aware there's so much more of it now, but I think I trust it again."

Arthur nodded, taking off his shirt. "It'll be better once we can get you home to Camelot. Get you in the safety of the Garden again so you can really flex those magic muscles surround by thick walls... " he trailed off, feeling the warlock shift behind him, shivering as Merlin's gloved fingertips lightly brushed the deeper welts on his back. He reveled in the little shocks of arousal it sent through him.

"I'm so sorry, Arthur," Merlin whispered.

Arthur sighed, half turning to look at the guilt that crumpled his lovers' face. He shifted his own position so that he was lying on his back with his head in Merlin's lap, the younger man automatically correcting his own position to accommodate him. He reached up to cup his lover's delicate face. "Merlin, what is it going to take to convince you that I have absolutely no regrets?" he asked gently.

Merlin shook his head. "It's not what I did, Arthur, not really. I can see you enjoyed that, I think. It's how I feel that bothers me."

Arthur took hold of his lover's hand, taking off the glove, bringing it to his lips, kissing the palm. "Oh? And how is that?"

"I was so angry… angry enough that I wanted to hurt you, control you, restrain you… I wasn't even aware I'd done half of these marks until afterwards."

Arthur nipped his way along a long finger. "Hmmmm, yes… and I loved every minute of it."

"Arthur, I'm serious."

"So am I," Arthur grunted as he took one finger into his mouth. He sucked on it for a moment, enjoying the slight stir of arousal in his belly in response to Merlin's low gasp. He reluctantly let the finger go. "And how did you feel afterwards?" He let himself be entertained by sucking on a different digit.

"Calm," Merlin answered. "At least before the guilt set in."

Arthur took his time kissing each finger. "Do you remember when I did something similar to you? I don't feel the slightest bit guilty over it. It's what I needed at the time."

"That's different. You _never_ hurt me, and you let me go when I asked you to."

"I never asked you to let me go," Arthur pointed out, turning the hand to brush his lips against the inner wrist of his lover, smiling when he felt the younger man shiver. "I do recall giving you a choice, and I recall _very_ much appreciating your selection. The entire camp heard how much I agreed with it."

"But, I wasn't able to offer the same when _you_ needed it," Merlin murmured with a blush of shame. "It wasn't right to take what I couldn't give."

"Ah!" Arthur released the hand he'd been playing with, sitting up to face his lover. "And _now_ we get to the core of it. Love, I've not had the experiences you have. It's not fair to compare the two. That night you gave what you could and it was more than enough for me- more even than I could have hoped for, given what happened to you. Boundaries are a part of any relationship," Arthur explained patiently. "We tried something, and it didn't work. It's happened before. It'll happen again. Equally, the other night worked. For me, anyway. I _did_ offer you _anything_ you needed. I wasn't blind to what that need might turn out to be."

Merlin sighed, and nodded, content to leave it. He wasn't explaining himself well, and didn't know how to fix it.

Arthur smiled, brushing back the younger man's bangs. "Merlin, I _do_ understand," he said gently. "After what happened between us when you were possessed, we've always tried so hard to come from a place of love, of pleasure. The other night didn't come from that, it came from anger. And you're afraid of it because afterward, you felt _better_. And what kind of a monster does that make you?"

Merlin nodded again.

"Love, what was your first reaction when you bound me?"

"Horror," Merlin replied instantly, trying to look away in shame, but Arthur grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"And what was mine?"

"I… you… you didn't let me undo it," Merlin replied, smiling as he remembered how fast Arthur had been to distract him from doing just that. "You said you trusted me, even though I used magic."

"Because the other night _did_ come from a place of love, even if it was secondary. I could feel that. If I had asked, would you have let me go?"

"Instantly," Merlin replied with confidence, realizing it was Arthur himself who had stopped him from doing so. Remembered now all the little actions the King had taken, deliberately seeking punishment.

"And when you were possessed, what happened when I tried to pull away?"

Merlin hung his head, still ashamed of the memory. "I… I forced you to keep going."

"Do you see the difference?" Arthur asked softly. "The other night, you were aggressive and confident in what you wanted, but you were still so _frustratingly_ tender, testing how much I could take, asking in your own way every step of the way. I had so many opportunities to stop you, you made sure of it- despite my best efforts."

Arthur breathed in relief when he saw the difference settle onto his lover. He leaned in, kissing him slowly, sweetly. Inviting him to join him, smiling when the younger man responded without hesitation. "Could have stopped you," Arthur whispered, shuddering when Merlin's hands automatically went up his back to steady himself in the kiss. "And only begged for more," he groaned into the kiss, his hands working to peel off the younger man's tunic.

Merlin shivered as the chill night air in the tent hit his skin, matched Arthur's lips, flowing into the kiss even as Arthur pushed him down, pulling his long body straight underneath him. Settling his bulk over him. Merlin's hands roamed his bare chest, and he couldn't stop the moans that came from him whenever those delicate fingers touched one of the marks.

His own hands trailed those sensitive sides, feeling the lean muscles quiver as he touched, swallowed the gasps coming from the lips he still had possession of. Moving one hand, he lightly pinned one bare arm against the cot, shifting his body. Beginning at the open palm, he kissed his way down the inner wrist, the forearm, suckling lightly at the inner elbow.

Arthur closed his eyes for control when Merlin's hips arched against him in response, the boy just as responsive to his tender ministrations as he had been to the violence. He released the arm, and moved to repeat himself on the other.

Merlin panted as Arthur moved to his throat, sucking gently on those few points, then offering soft kisses, making sure not to miss any skin. He felt Arthur roll against him as he let his hands brush hardened nipples, caressing then the smooth skin of hardened abdominal muscles, finally allowing his fingers to expertly work the laces of Arthur's trousers.

He pushed them down a little, using his own still booted feet to pull at material, sighing in lust when his prize sprang loose. He wrapped his hand around it, moving his lips to catch Arthur's, as he worked the girth, easing his hand slowly up and down, tightening and relaxing his grip as he went.

"Merlin," Arthur groaned softly. "Yes, ah, yes." His own hand worked quickly to open Merlin's pants, shuddering when Merlin's hand wrapped tightly around both of them as soon as he was free, working them together. "Oh gods," he breathed, shifting to support himself on his forearms over top of the trembling frame.

Merlin removed his hand, rolling his hips gently against those pressed against him, giving a soft cry as he shook with the pleasure of the meeting. He cried out again when Arthur thrust against him, pulling his lips away as he tossed his head, Arthur's weight preventing him from doing much more than the slight upward movement to match the tantalizing momentum.

"Gods, yes… so beautiful… finish for me love, I want to see," Arthur urged, increasing his pace, pushing himself a little further up on his arms so he could get the full view, and a fuller roll of his hips. He could feel the pearls from their members keeping their slides slick even while he reveled in the gentle heat created by the friction. He pushed harder, delighting in it resulting in the arch of that glorious throat.

Without hesitating, he reached out, wrapping them both in the Bond, increasing his pace as the dual sensations hit him, groaning when Merlin cried out with them. He thrust harder, his own arousal driven by the slightly parted lips, the slim frame arching into him, experiencing everything his lover was through their connection. There was desire, wanton passion, and deeper, there was love, and an exquisite tenderness in this. It only added fuel to his desire.

"Arthur!" Merlin panted breathlessly, and Arthur shivered at what it did to his own arousal, ownership and possession rising from the Bond though it was impossible to tell which one it came from.

He went faster as those cries increased, the hips that had been keeping pace with him faltering, the wave of pleasure from the Bond overwhelming him only a moment before he felt the pulse of Merlin's shaft against his, felt the release of essence slicking both of them, and the final soft cry sent him into his own climax, mixing their essence together in a way that felt right to the King as he cried out.

They shook together as the Bond carried their waves of euphoria through to each other, drawing it out even once they had both spent themselves utterly. Arthur leaned his forehead to Merlin's, riding out the aftershocks with small movements of his hips.

"I love you," Merlin breathed, reaching up to run his fingers over his lover's face.

The rare words from Merlin's mouth, combined with the truth of their strength in the Bond, left him speechless, choosing instead to grab those kiss swollen lips again.

**MERLIN101010101010110101010MERLIN**

Arthur sighed in contentment, enjoying the quiet morning. He was sitting against a log with his lover leaning up against his chest, their fingers playing absently with each other. Artemis, Leon, Gwaine and Durstan had gone for a walk to help the old druid collect herbs. The other soldiers had set up a camp further away from them and seemed to be hosting their own games to keep themselves entertained.

He had nothing better to do than spend the day relaxing, enjoying the sun, the slightly cooling temperatures as fall settled in, and wait for Gwen to arrive. Even Ian was taking some time to himself, relaxing at the nearby stream with a fishing pole he'd made with the threads from the clothing Merlin had magically ripped off them. Some of the other Knights had gone with him.

Merlin, bless him, had a scroll in his free hand, lips moving as he mumbled to himself, still trying to learn about his estates, though Arthur could feel how relaxed he was against him, so doubted much was penetrating. The boy tended to get frustrated with those reports. Still, Arthur had to give him credit for his dedication to learning.

He'd tried to help, but they'd soon discovered he wasn't much of a teacher in that regard. He'd been raised and tutored all his life to manage such things, not to explain them. Concepts he took for granted were completely foreign to Merlin. It didn't matter. He was content in the comfortable silence between them. It left him time to think, though admittedly his only grand thought so far this peaceful morning had been the exquisite length of Merlin's fingers as they toyed his with own.

Suddenly, Merlin was up and out of his arms before Arthur had a chance to even register he'd moved! Frowning, he opened his mouth to ask why his lover was suddenly on the other side of the fire when he heard it- voices carrying over as Gwaine and the others returned. He narrowed his eyes as an unpleasant realization started to dawn on him.

"Merlin?"

The younger man blushed, waving the report in his hand as the others came into view. "I've finished this one. I need another." And he took off for the tent they shared.

Arthur was on his feet and right behind him before the others even reached the edge of their camp, throwing back the flap in frustration.

"What was that?" he demanded.

Merlin looked up from the stack of papers he was going through, genuinely confused. "What was what?"

"You moved!"

Merlin frowned, nodding slowly. "Yes. To get another report, as I said…"

"Merlin! No one jumps like that to fetch a piece of paper. You always do that, you know."

"Do what?"

"Merlin, I'm in no mood for you to play roundabout with this. How did I never see it before?"

"Arthur, you're not making sense. See _what_?"

"Every time there's a chance someone can see us together, you warn me, try to move away. You've always done, since the beginning. You sincerely expected me to be ashamed of the marks you'd made on me- as if I wasn't right there letting you make them!- and whenever I kiss you in public, you're always tense. The rare times you've ever touched me, or kissed me, where someone could see has always been in extreme circumstances. I'm trying to figure out if you're ashamed of being in a relationship with me…"

"No! Arthur! Absolutely not!" Merlin replied without hesitation.

"Then you think _I'm_ ashamed of being in one with _you_ ," Arthur finished, knowing he'd hit the mark when the boy tensed, and wasn't quite as quick with his objection.

"Arthur…"

"That's it, isn't it?" Arthur sat down heavily in the chair in their tent, scrubbing a hand over his face, shocked he hadn't seen it sooner. All those times, coming easily to mind now that he thought about it, that he'd brushed off. "Years, Merlin, we've been together, and I never realized you felt this way."

"Arthur, you're the King. And you've always taken pride in your image, most especially the punch-to-the shoulder-for-reassurance- horseplay image. Gods, Arthur, you wouldn't even _hug_ me before I died- except the once, when you thought I was dead," Merlin pointed out, his faces scrunched in confusion. "I'm not sure what the problem is. I've always accepted that was a part of who you were."

"So it comes back to my pride," Arthur growled, standing and pacing. Would he _never_ be rid of that damnable personality flaw? He'd been full of it in his youth, he'd admit that. And even Gwen had pointed it out to him once before. That it would take time for Merlin to move from having objects thrown at him to tenderness. Years, however, had mellowed him. Circumstances and events that had shown him how shallow a meaning an image had. It had been Merlin himself who had pointed out that the men didn't follow him, believe in him, because of an image- they did so for _who_ he truly was. Time had proven that true- apparently to everyone except the man he happened to love.

"Arthur, it's not a big deal," Merlin smiled at him, shrugging.

"Did you ever think, Merlin, that it might be to me?" Arthur asked quietly. "You've complained, and equally boasted, for years that I never do anything by half measures. But somehow, you think you're the exception to that rule. I'm about to _marry_ you," Arthur pointed out. "Did you think that was going to be a private affair?"

Merlin grinned. "I'm always the exception to your rules, Arthur. It's always been that way," he teased.

Arthur sighed, realizing Merlin wasn't understanding him. The blink he'd gotten in return had answered his question. Apparently, despite his very public announcement of his intent to marry the Elder Prince, Merlin really did believe it would be a small affair, known but not seen. Come to think of it, that seemed to be the younger man's entire view on their relationship. Known, but rarely if ever _seen_.

"Merlin, I'm not joking about this."

Merlin sighed. "I can see that, I'm just not sure what's upsetting you," he admitted. "It's never bothered me."

"So you still think I'm an arrogant prat?" Arthur asked him. "A clotpole? Dollophead? A royal ass?"

"You still think I'm an useless idiot?" Merlin shot back. "A buffoon? A coward? A girl's petticoat?"

Arthur blinked, surprised by the answer. "You know I don't. I'm hoping you know by now I never did."

"The point, Arthur, is that we've both come a long way from the two boys having a pissing contest in the market," Merlin said softly. "Every step has been needed to build all we have achieved together. I believe that, even the less than perfect parts. We were both cruel to each other- neither of us is innocent of it."

Arthur nodded sadly. "So all that you can look back on all that and accept that it's changed, but not my pride? I'm still a proud man, Merlin, but not because of image. I'm proud of my skills, of my victories, of what we've accomplished, and I'm _proud_ to be with _you_. I once offered to bend a knee to you, Merlin- not because of the titles you hold, but because of who you were born to be. I hold to that offer still. Did you think it was just an idle piece of pillow talk? That I, an admittedly proud man, would make that offer to just anyone?"

Merlin looked away, a flush coming to his cheeks. "I told you then, and I meant it, I've never wanted that. And please don't say it again." He shuddered, Sigan's voice ringing in his memories.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Arthur apologized, seeing the same distress on the boy as he had seen the day he'd offered it. There were certain things they'd both agreed to never say to each other again. "Merlin, I want very badly to believe my instincts in this are wrong. That this doesn't come down to a servant being worth less than a King. That this isn't because the insecure Prat I _once_ was somehow managed to convince you that you aren't worthy of being seen with."

Merlin looked away, having no answer to give to that while still being truthful, and Arthur's heart broke. "Not wrong then," he murmured, nodding sadly. "I'm sorry I ever made you feel that way, that somehow you still feel that way. It's certainly not the way I felt once I made the leap to love you."

Merlin closed his eyes as Arthur ducked out of the tent, his entire posture screaming saddened defeat.

**MERLIN101010101010MERLIN**

"Uh oh… what'd you do now?" Gwaine muttered to Arthur as he watched Merlin storm out of the tent toward where they were standing with Leon, Durstan and several other Dumnonian soldiers.

Arthur shook his head, turning to head toward his obviously furious lover. He'd only left him ten minutes ago- albeit not in a good way. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when he suddenly found the boys' mouth crashing into his, the warmth of his body pressed up against him. He responded instinctively, not understanding but not willing to stop. His Merlin had always been glorious in his fury!

"I am _not_ a servant," Merlin growled loudly into it.

Arthur shook his head. "You're not. Never really were."

Merlin put his hands on the King's hips, pulling them closer together even as their tongues danced. "I was born your equal, and have always _been_ your equal," he hissed in between his attacks.

"Gods yes," Arthur groaned into the fierceness of the kiss.

Merlin pulled back then, his hand moving to the back of Arthur's head, playing with the golden locks. "I _chose_ to serve you." He leaned in again, sucking at the bottom lip, shivering when Arthur dove back in to assault his lips. "I _am_ worthy."

"Of me, and so much more," Arthur growled back in fervent agreement, crying out when Merlin's nip to his lip split it.

Merlin nodded, tearing away, shoving the King's chest as he did so. "Good." And he returned to the tent, leaving Arthur standing there, breathing heavily, trying to force down his obvious arousal in front of the group of his friends and colleagues.

"What was that?" Gwaine asked, coming up beside him.

Arthur wiped a thumb across his lip, arching an eyebrow at the blood on it, and he grinned. " _That_ was Merlin proving a point as only he could."

Gwaine shook his head, clapping his King on the shoulder as he sighed. "You're a very lucky man, Princess."

Arthur chuckled. "Don't I know it."


	4. Going Home: Chapter 4/11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: Warning: May be triggering (flashback involved, no graphic description). It would likely be safe to skip the rest of the chapter once Arthur returns to his chambers. A personal pet peeve of mine is characters experiencing these majorly traumatic events, and then, boom, they're fine. Like it never happened. So… a moment to remember that it's not only those who experience the trauma who suffer in the recovery.
> 
> MERLIN1010101010MERLIN

Arthur grinned, raising his glass to yet another toast. He would give the people of Dumnonia credit. Three days it had taken to get to the City. Three days of parades, people throwing gifts at them, cheering them as they passed through the streets. Celebrations were occurring in every town, and every night they stopped they were dragged into more.

Arthur was fairly sure he'd been drunk for the last two, at least. He'd been immensely relieved to find out, once they were finally within the City walls, that they wouldn't be officially meeting the royal family until the next day. He was barely keeping on his feet, despite that he'd learned not to take more than a sip or two of each beverage handed to him.

He marveled at Durstan and the Dumnonian soldiers' abilities. They had _not_ been taking merely sips, and were still perfectly steady. Tonight's celebrations were for the soldiers. A night to honor the Glorious Dead, those fallen in the battle. It had been an interesting experience. Widows and families alike had taken part in singing battle songs about their fallen loved ones. Tears were shed, of course, but openly shared with all. And there was as much laughter as there was sadness as memories were shared.

The dead, it appeared, held a much higher social status than any living person could ever hope to achieve. There was a goblet of wine for each of the dead that would sit for the entire night, each goblet marked with their family crest. He watched, fascinated, as many relatives and friends would seek out a goblet, and share a toast with the Dead!

"Durstan, I understand honor in battle, but…" he trailed off, not quite sober enough to think of an appropriate way to word his question.

Thankfully, the Prince seemed to understand. "To give one's life, Arthur, is the highest of honors. To die in battle means dying having taken a life. As our beliefs are peaceful, those who have done so cannot go to rest in eternal peace. And so, we honor the ultimate sacrifice of the Glorious Dead, who are condemned to forever wander the earth as the Unrested, as it is the most sacred of duties and only the Highest of Callings."

Arthur frowned. "They don't believe they're ever going to rest, but you still had eight _thousand_ volunteers come to Nemeth?"

"Thousands more still, Arthur. Those who went were picked by lottery. As I said, the most sacred of duties."

"Why do you do that?" Arthur slurred. "In private, you call me Arthur, in public or whenever someone else is around, you always address me as Sire or something else, but now you're calling me Arthur again- in public!"

Durstan laughed. "The Night of the Dead recognizes no titles of man, for the Unrested have none. We are all souls still bound to our mortal bodies, and that is all that is recognized."

"Well that's not confusing at all, is it Merlin?" Arthur turned to where his lover usually was, and was surprised not to see him. Then he remembered, he hadn't seen Merlin for quite some time. Hours. If not… had he seen the boy last night at all?

Three days of shouts of Victorious Emrys, of people constantly swelling around Merlin to receive a blessing of fortune in increasingly larger groups. Arthur had watched with a grin, at first, as his lover tried his best to keep up, to be friendly. Dumnonia, however, was a much larger population than Camelot, and it hadn't taken long for the signs of strain to start appearing on the warlock's face. He wasn't used to being a person of interest.

Arthur found himself sobering very quickly as he looked wildly around the room for his lover. "Durstan," he asked urgently. "When was the last time you saw Merlin?"

Durstan shook his head. "Not for some time. But don't worry. Gwaine hasn't left his side since we started the procession. Most of the soldiers seem to respect his place as a bodyguard for Emrys. And loyal Ian is never far out of range either."

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, but decided it was best to take advantage of his sudden sobriety and bid them good night. He made his way over to Gwen, who was entertaining a large audience, blushing, as she told them stories of Camelot's battles.

He leaned into her ear. "I'm going to bed, will you be alright?"

Gwen nodded and smiled at him, and he realized that some of the flush to her cheek was alcohol related. "I'll be fine, Arthur. Durstan hasn't taken his eye off me all night," she murmured, then nodded to her brother who was sitting close by. "And Elyan is staying with me. Have a good sleep, Arthur." She pecked his cheek, then turned back to her story. The dragon's attack, no less.

He glanced at Elyan, who caught his eye, quickly upending his empty cup quickly to show he wasn't drinking, and nodded. He nodded back, appreciating it. Most of the other younger knights of Camelot were as drunk as the rest of the participants, but he caught sight of Leon, and received the same cup signal.

Apparently, he was the only one who had been pressured into drinking. As Battle Commander, however, he'd been a large part of many toasts. He made his way out of the room, surprised not to have found Merlin, but equally pleased he hadn't found Gwaine, either, which meant the younger man was still with the Knight.

He took his time in returning to the large, luxurious chambers they'd been provided. Courtesy of Emrys, of course, that theirs were so fine. He'd seen Gwen's- which were modestly lovely- and the Knights and guards of Camelot were in the barracks. The servants that had come with them had been stationed in the servants quarters, since they weren't allowed in the barracks.

The slow walk and deep breaths he'd been taking helped steady him. Wine only, but strong ones from across the seas, and he'd been served their own Camelot cider! Thankfully, there had been as much food as beverage, and he'd heavily indulged just to balance it out a little. There had also been plenty of water, which he'd taken liberal amounts of. He didn't want to be ill the next morning, though he was sure Artemis had some kind of herbal concoction for them to drink.

He entered his chambers, and frowned. It was completely dark, with the exception of the one candle by the door. That was unlike Ian, who had been so proud when Arthur had rejected the offer of a local servant, stating Ian was more than capable of looking after both of them. Despite his frequent annoyances with the manservant, he was capable, intelligent, and more importantly, truly seemed to care for Merlin. It made Arthur trust him.

He took the candle, moving carefully into the first room- the chambers were divided between a bed and dressing room, and moved into the sitting area, which included a desk, and many chairs in front of a large fireplace, as well as a table and a longseat that could fit three.

Gwaine turned around when he entered, and came right over to him. "Arthur! What took you so long?"

"What?"

"Didn't Ian find you?"

Arthur shook his head. "No. Where's Merlin?"

Gwaine waved over to the fireplace, which Merlin was sitting in front of, partially hidden by one of the chairs. He went to move toward him, then stopped. There was something… off… about the way Merlin had his legs folded behind him, and was completely unmoving. It wasn't like him to be so still. "What's wrong?" he questioned quietly, hoping he was wrong, that something else had happened.

Gwaine shook his head. "I don't know. He's been getting worse for days- jumpy. Tonight, someone touched him and he collapsed, crying, begging something to stop, not to touch him anymore. I had to literally drag him here. I couldn't get him calmed down until the room was almost black, and then I sent Ian for you. He's been sitting there since. He won't answer me, or even blink at me, though he flinched when I yelled."

Arthur scrubbed a hand over his eyes. "Thank you, for staying with him. I know you did all you could. Please find Durstan and tell him Emrys- make sure to use that name, not Merlin!- is unwell, and that we'll have to put off the introductions for a couple of days. Then find Ian, and tell him to prepare a bath, as hot as he can make it."

"A bath?" The Knight asked doubtfully. "You think boiling him to death will help this?"

"I know what this is, Gwaine. The water will help ground him, and the heat will comfort him." Arthur shot a saddened glance at his lover. "This isn't the first time it's happened. Please, do as I ask."

Gwaine nodded. "Should I send for Artemis?"

Arthur shook his head. "No. Artemis can't help with this. Gwaine, it's Agravaine," he whispered.

Gwaine growled from deep in his chest, cursing lightly. "No wonder he fought like a polecat when I grabbed him." He lifted a finger to his cheek, and Arthur could see the scratches there. Impressive to mar skin through leather gloves, he thought. "Not to mention him nearly taking off my head before I managed to get his daggers off him. I'll go get what you need. We killed that bastard far too quickly."

Arthur nodded, took off his cloak and threw it on a chair, then stripped his armor down until he wasn't wearing anything other than his light tunic and trousers. The metal rings and click of his boots had frightened the youth in the past. Slowly, he approached his lover, until he was sitting facing him, his back to the fireplace, but in his line of vision. If he flexed his leg muscles they'd touch the younger man, but he was careful not to do so.

"Merlin?" he called. The vacant, unblinking eyes never moved, and Arthur sighed. "You're deep in it, Love. I'm so sorry. I should have seen this coming. I didn't think of it. You're so used to being around people. But all these people want _your_ attention. They must have been grabbing you for days," Arthur spoke, keeping his tone calm, soothing. It didn't matter what he said. Eventually his voice would penetrate the state of shock his lover was in.

"This has been building for a while, I think. Since Mithian started acting strangely, and then your final confrontation with her. The crowds just tipped you over. I should have kept a closer eye on you, should have checked in more often when we were separated. I had faith that you'd call to me if you needed me. I guess I should know better by now. Someday, Love, you'll understand all you are to me. Until then, I have to remember you never believe it's alright to ask for help. You really should have come to me, Merlin. I have duties, yes, but they are _never_ more important to me than you. And I'm going to remind you of that again when I know you can actually hear me!"

"I'm grateful Gwaine stayed so close to you. Would you believe he's probably one of four, maybe five, sober people in this entire castle tonight? Now _that's_ loyalty. I wonder, sometimes, if you know just how loyal he is to you. I know he's a good friend, but I think he loves you, in his own way. Just like Gwen does. You should have seen her tonight. She was telling the story of Kilgharrah taking his revenge on Camelot. She does a fair job of it, I'll confess. And, between you and me, she's a little drunk."

Everything in the King itched to reach out and hold his lover, but he knew from experience that was the wrong thing to do. These bouts didn't happen often, which was impressive given all they'd been through. Arthur cursed himself for not recognizing the signs that Merlin was bordering on one.

"For so many years I was raised to believe magic was wrong, and here I am, cursing because I know trying to use the Bond will only drive you further away from me. It's funny to think how accustomed I've become to it, how easy it is to reach for it. Is this what it's like for you? To have all that power at your fingertips, day in, day out. It must be tempting to reach for it more often than you do. You're a strong man, Love. Magic took a hell of gamble putting all that into one man. Anyone else, and I mean _anyone,_ would have been corrupted by it."

He sighed. "But not you. You weren't built as a normal man. You couldn't have been. You were built to suffer, to take that and turn it into a unique strength only you can wield. These moments, these are how you built it. Silently, quietly suffering as you find a way to use it, to master it. It was cruel to do, and for all my acceptance, there is a part of me that hates Destiny and Fate both for it. What I wouldn't give to take some of that from you," he whispered, tears coming to his eyes.

"Come back to me, Love, please," Arthur asked. "You're safe here. We now know what you'll be facing and we can ask Durstan to make some special arrangements. Make Gwaine look even scarier than usual- he likes it when people are scared of him, you know. Anything we need to do, we will. What you're seeing is only memories, Merlin. Powerful and awful, but I need you to remember that we won that battle, too. That justice was served, however little it will ever compare to the horrors of experiencing it. It will never take away from the scars left on you, and in you, I know that, and it's not fair. But it's the only small comfort we'll ever have." Merlin had shared these memories with him once. He knew all too well what was keeping his lover locked in his own mind.

He used his thumb to wipe away a tear that was tickling the side of his nose. "A long way we've come, you said. That's true. I remember a foolish young boy, arrogantly thinking himself a man, once telling you no man was worth your tears. How wrong he was. He saw them as weakness. He didn't understand, Love, the strength it takes to shed them, to love someone else enough to open himself that way. But you always did, and still you braved to do it. A courageous and wise man long before a boy learned to be a man, before a Prince learned to be a King."

"Arthur?" Merlin whispered.

Arthur leaned forward immediately, putting gentle hands on the arms of the still staring man. "I'm here, Merlin. Come back to me, it's safe, you're safe…" he soothed, murmuring over and over again, petting the arms lightly, letting the youth become accustomed to his touch.

When Merlin startled, gasping for air, his body jerking with the need to move, Arthur was ready for him, grabbing him and holding him tightly against him, carding his fingers through the sable hair, making sure his touch was gentle, but strong enough to be felt. This was only the first stage, he knew. And the most delicate. It wouldn't take much to launch his lover back into the darkness of his mind, a line Arthur had to carefully walk until the younger man came fully to him.

"I'm here," he whispered. "You're not alone. Shhhh…"

"Arthur," Merlin sobbed, finally registering the arms around him, falling into them as his mind allowed him this small awareness, his body wracked by heavy sobs of fear and terror, shaking violently. Memories so real he felt he could reach out and touch them plagued him, never ending. "They wouldn't stop."

"I know, shhhh… I know," Arthur soothed, pressing his cheek against the wetness of his lovers' face, understanding he was speaking of both the horrors in his memories and the people on the streets. There was nothing he could do for the past. "I'll take care of it. It won't happen again, I swear," he promised.

He felt the boy start in fear against him when the door opened, and he took a quick glance, pleased to see Gwaine hadn't been slow in his instructions. "Easy, it's only Ian. You know Ian. He's safe, too." He was grateful to see the manservant bringing buckets of hot water from outside the door, obviously either having gotten help or stacking them before interrupting them. "He's brought us some hot water for a bath. How about it?"

Still partially lost in his flashback, Merlin clung to him even more tightly, frightened Arthur would leave him. "It's alright, it can wait. I'm not going anywhere, Love. It can wait." He was content to hold the younger man as long he needed, though he knew the warlock preferred the water nearly unbearably hot.

Arthur looked again at the servant, noticing the steam coming from the several buckets he had in reserve. This wasn't Ian's first time through this either, though he hadn't been around for the original cause. The manservant had a saddened expression on his face as he watched them, standing ready to run for the slightest whim of either man. He didn't know the cause, but he knew true pain when he saw it.

"Can I take your boots off, Merlin?" Arthur asked. He didn't wait for an answer. He didn't need to, knowing none would come. He just needed to make sure he announced what he was intending to do. He tried to reach them, but Merlin curled into him further, blocking him, and he sighed, glancing at the manservant. "Alright, I won't move. Ian's going to take them, instead. They have to come off, Love."

Ian worked quickly and quietly. And efficiently. Arthur wasn't even sure Merlin was aware his boots and socks had been removed. He knew they needed to move this along. These bouts always exhausted the younger man, and if he had any hope of avoiding another episode tomorrow, the boy needed to feel clean. The only way to ever accomplish that was a full immersion into near scalding water.

The next parts were trickier. There was no way to avoid the warlock's panic while Ian worked to remove his tunic even while Arthur held him tightly, soothing him, talking to him the whole time. His heart breaking for the world of fear his lover was still partially trapped in. He urged the manservant to hurry, knowing even as he spoke it wasn't needed. The more Merlin struggled and fought and screamed, the heavier the guilt on the man's expression got. By the time it was done, King and servant alike had eyes brightened with tears at having to cause the suffering, for all they knew the importance of doing it.

Ian shared a look with him, a silent question in his eyes, and he shook his head. There was no way the traumatized youth was ready to have his trousers removed. They'd have to make do with what little skin they'd managed to expose. It worked out like that sometimes, pending the severity of the bout. The manservant moved away, and Arthur heard him pour another bucket of water into the bath as he tried to calm the trembling form in his arms, lighting a few more candles but not enough to make the room glaringly bright.

"Shhh… I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured. "We're done. It's alright." He rocked the younger man a little as he soothed, giving him a few moments for the panic attack to wear off, his breathing returning to its frustrated sobs, weak fists lashing out in anger at himself, a part of him aware of his weakness and hating it, another part still living in a nightmare made worse for its basis in reality. Arthur hated this stage, even as he held him tighter. Hated that his lover would consider any part of this his own fault. He knew from experience the warlock was still only half aware, which spoke to how deeply he tended to disparage himself.

"You're strong, Merlin," he whispered. "But even strong men can only bear so much, and your limits have been pushed beyond that of any mortal man. There's no shame in it. This is _not_ your fault," Arthur stated strongly, kissing a sweat soaked temple. "Nothing about this is your fault. It never was." He wished his lover was more grounded to really take those words in, but he'd happily repeat them as often as needed.

This battle with his mind Arthur couldn't fight for him, and it never failed to shake the King to his core to see his strong lover reduced to a frightened child. Not for the first time, he agreed with Gwaine. A single night spent screaming as he was torn to pieces could never come close to being real justice for the harm Agravaine and his men had caused the youth.

"I'm going to pick you up, Merlin," Arthur warned only a split second before he did so. He'd learned the hard way that hours spent sitting still, then suddenly being overstrained while he shook, weakened the warlock. He'd never make it on his own to the bath, and they ran the risk of him going further into the flashback with Arthur's arms around him in supporting positions. It was easier to lift him, carrying him over to the bath. "Still so thin, Merlin. Will you ever fatten up?" Arthur teased, as he always did. It had never been a strain to lift the man. For every ounce good eating had finally put on him, the warlock instantly wore off in training.

He hissed as he eased them both into the hot water, despite their clothes, thankful for the large tub. Skin was not what the youth needed right now, and even Ian never complained about having to dry the clothes afterwards. He was glad Gwaine had been able to get the dagger sheaths off him though. The water would have ruined the leather. He settled the younger man against his chest, his hands staying firmly on his shoulders for the few moments it always took for Merlin to adjust to the new environment and sensations.

They sat quietly for ten minutes before Merlin jerked away from him, splashing around for a moment as he twisted, taking in his surroundings.

"Merlin?" Arthur called softly, not daring to move and barely breathed.

"Arthur?" Merlin blinked, frowning.

The hot water, Arthur had discovered, was always key to bringing his Consort back to full awareness, even as his own skin turned red with it. Another trait he'd always attributed to the slim frame- Merlin was always cold. Sweat glistened on him, but his lover barely seemed to register the heat. The King was all but dead sober now, and actually considered sweating out the alcohol might prevent illness in the morning.

"Right here," Arthur answered softly, breathing in relief. It was never clear what would happen when Merlin fully returned to the world. Sometimes it brought incredible anger, sometimes sorrow, and sometimes confusion. The anger was frustrating because he'd often have to restrain the younger man to keep him from hurting himself, and the sorrow cut Arthur to the core. Confusion was his preference, where Merlin often simply didn't remember anything of the hours since the bout started.

"Why are we sitting in a bath with our clothes on?"

"Do you want to take them off?" Arthur offered, his hand already rubbing soothingly up and down bare arms when his lover tensed. He always offered, and whether he remembered the specifics or not, Merlin always seemed to remember the fear, shaking his head almost before Arthur finished speaking.

"No."

"Do you remember why?"

"I… it happened again, didn't it?" Merlin asked dejectedly, frowning. He half turned, lifted his hand to place it on Arthur's soaked tunic. "I'm so sorry," he shook his head.

"Hey," Arthur insisted, using his hand on his chin to move his lovers eyes to his own. "You have absolutely _nothing_ to be sorry for. _None_ of this is your fault," he repeated strongly. "It never was."

Merlin swallowed. "Did I hurt anyone?" He had in the past.

Arthur shook his head, now running the cloth up and down Merlin's arms, letting the heat of the water penetrate his trembling muscles. "Gwaine's got a few scratches, but that's all. Impressive, given your gloves. He considers himself lucky given that he also felt the need to take your daggers off you. Come on, lean back," Arthur encouraged, pulling Merlin's back toward his chest.

Merlin obeyed, closing his eyes as some of the fear that was still so strong in him evaporated with the steam in the bath. He sighed when Arthur moved the cloth gently over his chest- always making sure it was soaked through with the hot water so it washed over the skin.

"Did I embarrass you?" Merlin asked hesitantly.

Arthur huffed. "I would _never_ be embarrassed, Merlin. You've suffered a great deal, and it's perfectly natural that it comes back to haunt you. That it returns so infrequently is a testament to the miracle you are," Arthur insisted. He sighed as he felt the muscles remain tense against him. "But no, if you need to hear it. I'm not entirely sure what happened- you were with Gwaine at the time. Do you remember?"

Merlin blushed, shaking his head. "The last thing I remember clearly was the second night, at the village. There were just so many people, and they all… they all…." his breathing hitched as he remembered all those people reaching for him, touching him, grabbing for his attention...

"Shhhh, it's alright," Arthur soothed immediately. "Don't think about it. I've taken care of it. It won't happen again, I swear it. As you've mentioned before, I can be very scary when I'm overprotective," he rambled, looking to quickly distract his lover. "I'll make sure you have to spend a good deal of time trying to smooth over how badly I will handle it," he chuckled, his heart clenching when he received no cutting remark for it.

Merlin nodded, accepting, leaning his forehead against Arthur's throat. The feeling of the strong pulse against his skin lulled him, and soon his eyes started to droop. He suddenly felt like he hadn't slept in days, and the water combined with the sense of safety behind him soothed him.

Arthur felt the boy relax against him, kept up with his washing until he felt the breath even out into a deep sleep. He shifted slightly, testing, to see how much he'd react. He breathed a sigh of relief when there was none.

For tonight, this battle was over. He kissed the wet hair again, letting his tears fall now that he wasn't needed as a source of strength anymore. He didn't think he'd ever get over how much these episodes crushed him. He paid no mind to the manservant standing quietly by, waiting for Arthur to be ready to release his hold, as he sobbed quietly into the bare shoulder, whispering apologies that would never be enough.

There would never be a way to win this war, and it ripped out his soul every time he had to face that truth.


	5. Going Home: Chapter 5/11

Merlin sighed, resigned to letting his manservant fuss with making sure his clothes sat just right, deliberately ignoring Gwen's giggle.

"How did you _ever_ adjust to this?" he complained to her as Ian forced his arms up to be held out the sides yet again.

"If you'd actually eat, Merlin, then Ian wouldn't have to spend so much time adjusting your clothes. I made that outfit to be snug, show off your figure," Gwen answered with a sniff, moving to sit in a chair in their chambers.

"I do nothing but eat!" Merlin argued. "If Ian isn't constantly shoving food at me, then you and Arthur are! I think Ian just enjoys making me stand like a dress up doll!"

Ian snorted around the sewing needle in his mouth. He took it out to make another stitch. "If his Highness would actually eat more than a few bites of what we shove at him, he wouldn't wear it off quicker than he takes it in," he growled as he concentrated on his task. Merlin blushed as he was entirely sure his servant wasn't just talking about his training.

Gwen smiled. She should have had this done yesterday, really. It had been months since Merlin wore the all white outfit she'd made him, and despite their introduction this afternoon, she hadn't thought to have him try it on before this morning.

"Are you nervous?" Merlin asked gently. She was always especially keen to fuss over him when she was.

"A little," she admitted. "Maybe a lot. I haven't felt like this since before I married Lance, and I was never able to be introduced to his parents. Even knowing his brother's aren't here, meeting Durstan's family is intimidating."

"It's impossible not to love you, Gwen," Merlin reassured kindly, smiling at her. "And you look stunning. Camelot's rose," he said proudly, taking up the nickname the Dumnonian soldiers had given her, "will be the brightest beauty in the room."

Gwen snorted, never comfortable with the moniker. She was Queen Regent now, but she had grown up a blacksmith's daughter. "As long as they don't discover it has thorns."

Merlin laughed, finally able to put his arms down as Ian stepped back to inspect him. "I think they respect the thorns more than the beauty," he pointed out. "A peaceful religion with a warrior culture- they're an interesting mix."

"No, Ian," Gwen stopped him, pointing at another pair of boots. "With the buckles, in the Dumnonian style. They'll go better with his thigh sheaths- use the black leather. They'll stand out against the white."

"You're as guilty as he is," Merlin grumbled. "How is it Arthur gets away with just his armor?"

"If you wore armor, Merlin, you'd be allowed the same," Gwen pointed out. "As it is, we'll have to make do with your vambraces instead of your cuffs. I really do wish you'd let me design nicer ones."

"I like mine just fine," Merlin insisted, casting an appreciative glance at his manservant. "At least something about me remains simple." Leon had presented them to him, and it had been Durstan who had them hastily made the evening before he faced Arthur, but it had been Ian who had designed them. "As it is, you've turned my daggers into a fashion accessory!"

He had several different pairs of sheaths now of varying colors and design. Thankfully, no one dared touch the daggers themselves. He'd taken to wearing them daily since the challenge, giving him time to get used to the added weight on his legs. Ian had suggested it, and he'd discovered in practice how much quicker he was than when he wore them only occasionally.

He'd admit he felt safer with them, too. His magic had been either denied to him, or too unstable, recently and the daggers made him feel less defenseless. He thought Ian suspected as much, as they were always included with his daily clothes, but it wasn't anything he'd ever admitted out loud.

Gwen didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed about it as she shrugged. She found a certain pleasure in dressing Merlin, though she couldn't explain why. Likely it was connected to her own struggle at the beginning to be seen as more than merely a servant herself. Or, perhaps it was because properly dressed, he was a beautiful canvas to work with.

There was a knock at the door then, and Durstan swept in without waiting for an answer- something he only did when he knew Arthur was elsewhere.

The Prince took in Gwen's dark red gown, and the delicate silver vine circlet she wore with a dangling sapphire. Her drop earrings framed her face beautifully, and were just long enough to add to her already graceful throat.

"Ah, My Lady, you will put every member of court to shame for your radiance," Durstan breathed, putting a hand to his heart as he spoke, leaning down to give her a peck on the cheek.

Merlin smiled softly. Durstan had never been anything but a gentleman to her, very cautious of her reputation. The mischievously mirthful man would likely change his ways once they were properly married, but he knew for now it was a show of respect for her, and he liked that about the Prince.

He arched an eyebrow at Gwen. "See?"

"And you, my Brother, will break every heart. You are to be commended, my dear," he bowed a little to Gwen. "He is _stunning_." His eyes glinted at her, and she nodded, appreciating the compliment to not only her taste and skills, but also to her diplomatic sensitivity. When Arthur had refused the presentation to be in Dumnonian royal colors, she had conspired with Ian, delighted to know the all white outfit with the silver dragons and the marbled winter owl feather cloak had been in his belongings. As the outfit was made primarily with the materials gifted originally as part of the peace treaty with Camelot, it still honored the Kingdom he was being adopted into. Arthur didn't take notice of such things.

"Er, thank you?" Merlin hesitated. Durstan's constant reference to him as brother always threw him off, and he never did well with compliments. He wasn't used to them- short of Arthur's tendency toward them in the bed chambers- and they made him nervous.

"Ah. And there is why I've come. I feel I must say something, but I'm worried it… well, it may bring about unpleasant memories," the Prince hesitated.

"Durstan," Gwen warned, reaching out a hand to stop her betrothed, instinctively moving to protect her friend. Even Ian had tensed, subtly changing his stance where he stood just in front of the warlock, as though determined to defend him.

This is the scene Arthur walked in on, and he frowned at the feeling in the air. "What's going on?" he asked hesitantly. It took only seconds for him to understand that Gwen and Ian were in protective mode over his Consort.

"It's alright," Merlin said calmly, appreciating but knowing Durstan wouldn't have brought it up if it hadn't been important. "Say what you need to Durstan, and speak plainly." He nodded at Gwen, and laid a reassuring hand on Ian's shoulder, smiling. "I'll be fine."

Arthur's frown deepened as he moved to stand next to his lover. "Merlin?" he questioned.

The Prince nodded, keeping eye contact with Merlin as he spoke. "From the very first day, it's clear you've… tolerated… the trappings the Victim's Rights bestowed upon you. To explain it more easily, consider it like a purchase."

"Durstan," Arthur growled in warning, feeling his lover tense beside him. Only two days after Merlin's flashback, the comparison of being a purchase was far too close to the word 'whore' Merlin had learned to fear at the hands of his Uncle and others. Arthur himself had done a considerable amount of damage toward that, and because of that was almost as bad as Gwaine for shielding his lover from it. He sincerely liked the Prince, but there were some limits he wasn't ready to push for him.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, but he needs to understand this," Durstan pushed on, unaware of the byplay happening in front of him. "Bursus failed to kill you. That cost him everything, which he knew that it might before attempting it. The consequences are as old as the roots of our Kingdom. By surviving, you paid the price…"

"Enough!" Arthur commanded harshly, stepping forward aggressively. "That's _enough_ , Durstan," he repeated when the Prince opened his mouth to protest.

"Arthur, ease off. He doesn't know." Merlin smiled at him, meeting his eyes, nodding despite the fact that his hands held a tremor. "Durstan, I sincerely apologize if I've offended you. I never meant to. I want you to know I'm not naive to the honor you've given me, nor would I be lying in saying I have a sincere fondness for you."

Durstan clasped his hands together, taking a step forward. "Brother, I have grown to love you, in truth, and please know I don't mean to cause you pain. What I'm trying to describe is that our Victim Rights is the only solution for such an insult, for such a great debt, a debt that rides bloodlines for generations. There is a reason it's so rare for the Royal Family to undertake such a crime. I know you don't see it, but you _are_ an Elder Prince of Dumnonia, you _are_ my Brother, and you _are_ my mother's son. It is no mere thing of courtesy designed to appease, but a wrong made right on a deeply spiritual and cultural level. You, Brother, are _blood_ , though we don't share a drop. All the more so for your lack of choice in the matter."

Arthur moved, stepping up beside his lover, his back facing the Prince, and put a hand on his shoulder while he whispered something to the younger man.

Merlin nodded slowly. "I think I understand. I can't treat it like an adoption. Everyone else will treat it as if I'd been born to it, and I need to, as well." He cocked his ear, listening as Arthur whispered again. "The how of it all is taboo, it never happened. And I need to present myself as though this has always been my life."

"Yes!" Durstan agreed with a laugh, and a rush of relief. "When you are before the Queen, you will embrace her as Mother, then kneel to her. As my sister is the only family here at present, you must greet her as sister, me as Brother, then she and I will both kneel to you. It would be ill thought of if you looked uncomfortable. It is not an introduction so much as a welcome home."

"And my title as Emrys?" Merlin asked quietly.

Durstan glanced at Arthur, who had turned around again and was now standing just behind Merlin's shoulder, keeping very careful eyes on the Prince. "It has been made clear that this is an affair of State, not religion. Once you have taken your place behind our mother, Arthur and Gwen will be introduced to the Royal Family present."

"Which, includes me."

"Yes."

Merlin took a deep breath, nodding. "What were you coming for, Arthur?" he asked.

"A word alone, in the sitting room, if you would?" Arthur asked curtly, grabbing the younger man's arm and moving him to the other room, pleased when Gwen stepped in to distract the Prince.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Arthur leaned in, cradling his lovers' face even as he brushed his lips. "Are you alright?" he whispered anxiously.

"I'm fine, Arthur," Merlin reassured him. "Please don't go back to treating me like I'm fragile. I can take almost anything else, but not that."

Arthur nodded, understanding. "You look amazing, by the way," Arthur grinned, leaning in for a more possessive kiss, this one definitely lustful in its intent.

Merlin blushed. "Gwen insisted. I was afraid… we were not in a good place last I wore it."

"Unless you've got another Crystal hanging under that tunic, I'm prepared to look beyond the past, and appreciate the very fine things it does to your legs, and your hips, and your…" he let his hands trail each part as he spoke of, moving them to his buttocks when he trailed off, giving them a firm squeeze.

Merlin laughed. "Is that what you came for?"

Arthur sighed, shaking his head and stepping back with a regretful sigh. "Unfortunately, no. I actually need to talk to Durstan, and was told he was last seen heading here." He turned away, then hesitated. "We can tell him, so he knows to be careful. He'll understand."

Merlin shook his head. "He meant no harm, Arthur, and was only trying to explain before I made a fool of myself. I wouldn't have even noticed it if it hadn't been for… well… the other night. I'm not fragile, but I won't pretend to be entirely stable just yet, either. I just need a few days to find my balance again. I haven't had one that bad in a long time."

Arthur raked his eyes over him one time, then nodded, willing to accept that his lover was being entirely honest with him. He'd confess to being on edge and hyper vigilant of the younger man. There had been an itch between his shoulders for days, and everything in him was screaming at him to grab his lover and run. Which was ridiculous, of course. He was literally not only royalty, but also a religious icon here. It was probably one of the safest places they could be.

But no matter how often he repeated that, he couldn't shake the feeling something was coming.

**MERLIN1010101010101010110MERLIN**

Durstan watched from the front of the room standing just behind his mother, with his younger sister beside him, his chest swelling with pride as his Brother swept down the aisle between the entire Court into the Throne room tall and proud, like he'd made this walk a hundred times over. He was as magnificent as he had been the day of the Challenge, only this time his weapons sat perfectly naturally on his thighs, his cloak flourishing behind him.

Elloise was watching him with a curious and appraising eye. She had been determined that he should also inherit her dislike of Bursus. Durstan would admit, he'd placed a small wager with his mother on whether the warlock would win her over. He had this small window as his sister was quick to make her judgements. So far, the slight widening of her eyes boded well for his win.

His new little sister was in her basket, unhappy with the feeling of a full room and fussing, slightly to the right and below his mother, her attendant trying to shush her. He drew in a sharp breath when Merlin paused on his approach, looking at the baby.

He shook his head, and confidently swooped in to kiss the Queen on each cheek as if he'd done it before, then backed up in front of her and knelt to her, fist to heart, calmly announcing the great victory over the Saxons.

Durstan beamed when Merlin then stood and took his place to her right, allowing himself and Elloise to complete their greetings. The Prince was impressed he managed the entire ceremony without a single blush or duck of his head.

Merlin kept glancing at the basket, however, and once Elloise had completed her greeting, he moved to it, fascinated by it. There were murmurs, and Durstan shifted, as this was unusual. Merlin had done exceptionally well in proving he'd understood his earlier words so far, but this… they hadn't discussed. He sensed enough, however, to know something was drawing the boy to the baby. Even his Mother watched curiously, making no move to stop him.

Merlin couldn't keep his eyes off the baby. He felt an immediate kinship with her, and there was something… he couldn't put his finger on it. Nor could he have stopped himself from finally leaning over the basket, reaching out a finger for her to grab, which she did with a loud peel of laughter.

He brought up his other hand and let his eyes flash gold as he blew into it, creating dark green butterflies of light to fly around her. He smiled so gently when she was delighted by them, reaching for one. When she managed to grab one, hold the thing made of light in her hand, his eyes widened.

"Oh little one," he breathed, though it was so silent in the room he was easily heard. "You are special beyond words. Your gifts, my Little Lady, will bring great prosperity to all of Albion," he predicted, feeling her potential for strong magic within her. "I will help you learn." He stood up, and flushed, realizing the entire Royal Family was watching him, bug eyed, while the court whispered and murmured.

He knew his religious title wasn't supposed to be acknowledged, but a memory tugged at him, and his mouth opened without thought as he reached down and placed a hand on her forehead, his eyes flashing gold of their own accord. "My Little Sister will come to me in Camelot- she will know when the time is right. I name her now Apprentice and Heir to Emrys, baptize her under the will and Light of the Triple Goddess as Anah, chosen of Destiny, wielder of fortune."

Durstan went wide eyed, but immediately went to knee- as did the Queen and the entire court- as they called out, "Hail Anah, Blessed of Emrys," in unison, as if uttering the ending of a prayer.

Merlin took a deep breath as he felt his eyes return to their normal gold crowned blue, closing his eyes as the whispers in his memory faded away. He returned to his place, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, like this had been a duty he hadn't consciously known was his to carry out. He frowned, noticing the entire court stayed kneeling until he took his place next to the Queen, visually stationing himself as Elder Prince once again.

Durstan took a deep, shaking breath. He couldn't contain the excitement that flowed through him. He doubted Merlin understood at all what he had just done. He'd seen the boy act in that semi state of trance before. More often since the Battle. Destiny had spoken here today, and he wasn't the only one to recognize it. It hadn't been Merlin's place to name the girl- especially before she'd reached her first year!- but he knew his sister would never carry another. He had honored her far beyond what he could fathom.

His eyes darted to the hallway at the end of the room, seeing Arthur watching his lover with narrowed eyes. There would be no way for him to fully see what was happening, but he had heard Merlin's firmly spoken words, and watched the entire room kneel.

The Prince moved quickly, stepping below the Queen. "Your Majesty," he bowed. "May I please present to you King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, Keeper of the Five Kingdom Alliance, Defender of Justice and Law, First Knight of Camelot and Liege to Vassal Kingdom of Dumnonia, Battle Commander of the Prophesied Great Battle, Son of the Glorious Dead Uther Pendragon, Son of the Blessed Dead, Queen Ygraine de Bois, may She Rest forever in the hand of the Triple Goddess shaded in the Eternal Garden." He stepped aside as Arthur had begun making his way with the first starting of his titles.

The King stood proudly before the Queen, reaching out to take her hand and lay a properly chaste kiss on it. He had to admit to being startled. She was a beautiful woman, long dark brown hair and dark brown eyes that danced like her sons, but there was a fire in them, too, that spoke of great inner strength. It was the first time someone had included his lineage in an introduction, and his heart clenched at his mother's name. He'd understood, of course, that there was a clear distinction between those who died pure and those who died having taken a life. While he, himself, would never credit Uther with the honor associated with the Glorious Dead, it touched him in a way he hadn't expected to have his mother included in the Blessed Dead of the old religion.

"Your Majesty, on behalf of Camelot, I greet you in peace, and welcome the Alliance of our two great Kingdoms," Arthur intoned, standing proudly.

The Queen nodded at him, then smiled. "King Arthur, we welcome you to Dumnonia, and we wish nothing but fair winds for our Trade." She held out her hand to Merlin, who took it automatically. She pulled him to stand next to her. She turned to the Court. "In addition to a Contract Alliance, Knight King Arthur has also pledged his acceptance to wed our Elder Prince, Battleguard of Ships, and Battle Mage." She looked at Merlin. "Is it your intention to accept your responsibility and duty to your Kingdom, my son, to secure this alliance?"

Merlin blushed, but nodded. "It is, your Majesty."

She reached for Arthur's hand then, which he gave without hesitation, grinning. "Dumnonia accepts the union, and under the eyes of our laws, and the blessed Light of Emrys, we will acknowledge no other. An Alliance now bound in blood, bound in spirit, and bound in lasting peace." She placed their hands together- Merlin's over Arthur's indicating the rank of the marriage to the Court- then she smiled. "We welcome you now, Arthur Pendragon, as Family." She leaned over, kissing each of his cheeks.

The Court cheered loudly. Arthur nodded solemnly then took his place, standing just below and behind Merlin. He felt no shame in it. He understood ranking very well, and had no issue with it being different than Camelot's. Durstan had been thorough in educating him on the hundreds of little ceremonial significance to even how one placed their feet.

They watched, grinning both, when a similar process was repeated with Gwen's introduction, both men proud of her when she carried herself gracefully, accustomed now to her own standing and authority. He felt his heart clench a little as Tom and her mother were included as well in the Blessed Dead, and Lancelot as the Glorious Dead. Being a widow to the Glorious Dead held its own special significance, he'd learned. The ranking had been explained to her, as well. She was truly Camelot's rose, Arthur thought, and felt his Kingdom had been more than well represented today, even with Merlin's side step with the baby.

He watched as Gwen greeted Merlin as her brother, a kiss on each cheek, and if it lingered just a moment more, he didn't care. Her kiss on his single cheek did the same. They were family now, by marriage. He was glad Durstan had been kind enough to go over the expectations of this. Arthur would never have considered the impact a kiss on the cheek could have!

When the Court cheered again, he joined them. He'd been watching his Queen, his old friend, very carefully. While there was a trace of sadness about her, she was glowing in her happiness. In the end, that was what mattered most to him, and the way her eyes lit up when they rested on Durstan filled his heart with joy.

He sighed as the ceremony wrapped up, paling a little when he saw the casks being brought out. Was he to spend his entire visit drunk?

**MERLIN101010101010101010MERLIN**

"Your men are truly skilled, Durstan. I saw it on the battlefield, of course, but to see it here, in practice!" Arthur shook his head, sincerely impressed. "They are incredibly disciplined, each one fully aware of their flaws and strengths, fighting to them appropriately." A very large part of him wished he was down there with them, but he had been told it would be extremely inappropriate for him to do so. "Their footwork is balanced, steady. Look at how Eliam keeps them in line!" He couldn't contain his enthusiasm.

Durstan grinned at him. "Thank you, Sire. They have enjoyed these days together with your own Knights. Ah! My brother takes to the field again, I see. It's good to see it more natural."

Arthur nodded, watching as Merlin made his way to his opponent- Eliam himself! He'd heard there had been more than one not so quietly whispered guffaws of his choice in weapons. The Dumnonian's greatly favored the lance. He was a little jealous, too. As a foreign King, he could not take part in practice- his ranking as a Knight counting only in the marriage ceremonies and contracts- but as a welcomed member of the royal family, Merlin could. So he was forced to remain content to watch from the palace balcony overlooking the yard. There were several members of the court also watching. Watching the practice was often a form of entertainment, apparently. Wine and refreshments were brought around to them regularly.

They watched quietly. It was a good fight, and there was a begrudging respect for how long Merlin held his own against the Battle Master, but ultimately the outcome was already predicted. Merlin grinned up at the older man from his back in the sand, laughing in good nature, taking a bow to the applause once he was back on his feet.

Arthur whistled. "That's the first time I've seen him lose."

Durstan snorted. "A courtesy. He could have had Eliam, but chose instead to leave himself open. I've seen my brother dance too often, seen him use that same move several times. That's the first time he's ever made a mistake with it. Thankfully, no one else will recognize it, and Eliam's honor remains intact. It was kind of him to do it, but it would have shamed Eliam had it been discovered."

"You should probably tell him that. While he takes pride in his skills, he has no driving need to win at all costs, not in practice. Kindness will reign over pride every time," Arthur pointed out.

Arthur watched as Gwaine cuffed the boy up the backside of the head- he _had_ seen him throw the fight- then took him through some forms, kicking his feet into place whenever Merlin mis-stepped. He'd never admit it, but the Knight was a good teacher. He pushed Merlin as hard as he'd ever pushed any future knight in training. It was, however, quickly becoming obvious that Merlin's skill was fast out pacing any kind of training level. Sighing, know it was time, Arthur put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly down to them. A great many people looked up. Nodding to Gwaine, Arthur held up the flat of his hand against his eyes, pleased when the Knight nodded, calling to Ian at the edge of the field. He ignored the murmurs of the Court behind him.

He watched carefully, arms crossed tightly across his chest, as Merlin shook his head violently, but Gwaine put a calming hand on his shoulder, putting it around his own eyes first, then holding it out to him. Arthur waited patiently to see if his lover would accept it. He never did well with any kind of restraint, but if Merlin wanted to play at his level, then this was part of it. He kept a close eye on the younger man, hardened his blue eyes when panicked azure rose to meet his, staying safely behind his role as First Knight, tucking the anxious lover firmly away. Seeing no respite, Merlin nodded slowly, holding out his own hand for it. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

Durstan frowned at him. "It is a requirement that your Knights learn to fight blindfolded?"

Arthur grunted. "Only once they've mastered at least one weapon. It teaches them to trust their senses, to be aware of their surroundings. He has good instincts for that, given he's spent his entire life hiding his abilities, but it's different to have a weapon in hand with it, to learn to trust it's balance and weight. He has to learn to sense the shift in the air around his space. This is a part of what it means to be a Knight of Camelot. I have to challenge his comfort zones if he's to improve further still."

"He was very reluctant to do it," Durstan pointed out. "I've never seen you be firm with him like that before."

"The Knights are mine to command, Durstan. I need to be able to trust the abilities of each one. I've always believed he should wield a weapon- I wasted years trying to teach him the sword- since he's been robbed of his magic on more than one occasion. It was Gwaine and Leon who realized his potential with the long daggers. His quick advancement in skill has gotten him this far, but he needs to know there's further still to go. In this, he is a Knight under my command, not my lover."

"I applaud your ability to separate the two. I can see why so many named you Battle Commander at Nemeth."

"Not as easily as you think. He'll have nightmares tonight and I'll spend the entire night feeling guilty," Arthur answered with a small smile. "I'll likely indulge him _anything_ for the next couple of days to make up for it, too."

Durstan laughed. "It's a lucky man who gets to decide whether he commands on the field or in the chambers." He lifted a finger. "Speaking of, Sire, my mother wishes to dine with you both this evening, as well as Gwen and I. Wedding plans."

Arthur sighed. As he'd suspected, the wedding ceremony would be highly ritualistic, and long. He'd completed the purchase of the ship, as was required for his dowry, and Merlin's clothes were being made. Gwen had been, suitably, upset that she wasn't to design them. Nor had she been impressed when she'd discovered the same of her own dress. Durstan had been gifting her jewels for days so she'd have plenty of jewelry to wear come the day.

He kept a careful eye on the Gwaine and Merlin. He would admit that Gwaine was proving a patient teacher, as well, calling out his steps and taking the warlock through several slow motion paces and forms, getting him used to the feel of his weapons rather than the visual of them. He moved his eyes over to where Leon was leading several of Camelots younger Knights through their usual paces as well. Parry work was today's lesson, it seemed. Leon and Elyan demonstrated, then moved among them, making corrections where needed. While frustrated he couldn't lead the practice himself, he had to confess, it gave him an excellent opportunity to show that his men were so well trained they didn't, in fact, need him.

And then his shoulders began to itch again, and he swung his eyes, looking first to the Dumnonian's soldiers, then to the crowd of citizens that had gathered to watch. They swept over to see Gwen and Elloise also watching, giggling together. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but he couldn't shake it.

"Sire?" Durstan asked, noticing the sharpened gaze, the grim expression.

"Something's not right," Arthur murmured, still looking. There! A flash of metal from the far edge of the crowd. Without hesitating, he sent a warning to his lover through the Bond, knowing there was no time to remove the blindfold. He held his breath, the view from up above seeming to slow time as a dagger flew unerringly in the air toward the warlock. Felt the younger man reach to use his eyes, his field of vision, falling to one knee even as he twisted, bringing up one arm.

It wasn't until the sound of metal hitting metal, the sight of something bouncing of Merlin's vambrace, that the crowd clued into the activity that had, in fact, passed in seconds, not hours like it felt to Arthur. The crowd erupted in panic, making it impossible for Arthur to track the assailant, though he could have sworn he caught a flash of a hooded figure turning down an alley.

"Find him!" Durstan roared, his face contorted in anger. Arthur didn't stay any longer, taking off from the balcony.

**MERLIN1010101011010101010MERLIN**

Merlin had only the split second warning from Arthur, and reacted instinctively. Once he felt the impact on his brace, he whipped off the blindfold at the same time as Gwaine took a defensive stance around him, one arm splayed to cover him even as he shouted for Leon, his eyes tracking something.

He looked toward the crowd, and saw nothing but panic. He gathered himself to dart in the direction Gwaine was facing when he felt Leon grab his arm and start walking him toward the safety of the castle, getting him out from the open.

"Leon?" he questioned, trying to turn back, to see. "What are you doing? Gwen was over there. We have to go back. Leon!"

Leon didn't answer him, instead handing him off to Elyan. "Keep him safe. Don't leave his side until Arthur gets to him." Elyan nodded sharply. He'd also seen Gwaine take off as soon as Merlin had been gathered by Leon.

"What?" Merlin objected, growling when Elyan also gave him a hard tug. He tried to yank his arm from the Knight, but Elyan had a surprisingly tight grip on him as they moved through the crowds. Soldiers were scattering to go after the would-be assassin while citizens fled around them, returning to the safety of their homes. "Elyan! Stop!"

"No chance," the Knight murmured. "I like my bollocks too much to let Arthur take them off."

"You're being ridiculous. Gwen was over there. We need to make sure she's alright!" Merlin snarled, and tried again to take his arm away, turning away to try and help with the search, feeling the stretch in his shoulder when the Knight refused to loosen his grip. Elyan's other hand reached to grab his other arm, twisting him around and moving them forward again.

"Need I remind you, _Sire_ , that you are _betrothed_ to the _King_? That as a Knight of Camelot it is my _duty_ to first protect said King and the royal household? An attempt was just made on your life, your _Highness_ ," Elyan hissed, stressing the titles as he looked around at the people who had calmed and were now milling around, watching them closely as they passed them in the corridor. He wasn't without sympathy, however, when he also offered, "Gwen is fine. Eliam took her and the Princess Elloise inside. We need to get _you_ to safety."

Merlin frowned, but kept quiet, understanding the stress on his titles were for the benefit of those around them. He stopped struggling, but couldn't contain his anger. This was ridiculous! Had they been in Camelot, he would have been right there with the other Knights, tracking down whoever had thrown the knife.

His irritation only got worse when he saw Arthur- very much the King of Camelot at the moment- striding firmly down the corridor, Durstan looking equally stony faced next to him, and both of them surrounded by Dumnonian soldiers. They looked quite impressive, especially as Arthur had his hand gripped firmly on the hilt of the sword around his waist. He was more than familiar with that expression, and sighed in defeat as to what would come.

They stopped in front of a door, and Arthur took a group of soldiers in with him. Elyan didn't even hesitate to pull Merlin into the room, finally letting go of his arm.

Which was immediately taken up again by Arthur, even as the other man's hand cupped his face and anxious blue eyes searched his. "Are you alright?"

Merlin nodded. "I'm fine. Thanks to your timely warning."

Arthur pushed him back, running his hands over most of him quickly, his heart still feeling like it was lodged in his throat. He ignored the irritated expression of his lover, wanting to make absolutely sure the boy wasn't hiding any injuries.

"I told you, Arthur, I blocked it," Merlin insisted. "You _saw_ me block it, since I used _your_ eyes to see it and slow time."

Arthur looked at him, startled. "Is _that_ what that was?" He turned and nodded to the Knight. "Thank you, Elyan, for seeing him safe. I saw Leon get him off the field and Gwaine take off. What happened?"

Elyan bowed slightly. "Of course, Sire. I don't know. Leon got him to me, told me not to leave him until you were with him, and then went after Gwaine."

"And Gwen?"

"Eliam has her, Arthur. She's fine. As well as the Princess," Elyan offered to Durstan. "Eliam moved quickly as soon as he saw Gwaine had Merlin covered."

Merlin nodded. "Gwaine was tracking something. He stayed only long enough for Leon to shuffle me off like some maiden in distress," he grouched.

Arthur's eyes snapped to his lover, took in the irritation, the tenseness of his shoulders that he knew had nothing to do with the attack. He frowned, his eyes widening as he understood Merlin's natural instincts had been to go after the man himself. Would the man simply never learn? Every single time Arthur thought Merlin had a firm grasp on his new status, the warlock would prove how wrong he was!

"This isn't a battle, Merlin," he hissed. "This was an assassination attempt. There's a considerable difference. I'm _the_ deadliest man in Camelot, and the Knights would have reacted the same had it been an attempt on _me_. They did Camelot proud today." He nodded his approval at Elyan. "It is their duty to protect you just the same as they would me, and they performed admirably."

" _I'm_ not a King destined to rule Albion! Also, you're the _second_ deadliest man in Camelot. I can take care of myself," Merlin insisted. "And spare me the lecture, I already got it from Elyan. I am more than capable of helping track the man. I've done so many times in Camelot when it was _your_ life we were defending."

Arthur ground his teeth in frustration. For all of Merlin's bravery, the lack of willingness to kill unless he absolutely had to was well known. Also known was that 'absolutely had to' was defined clearly in his mind as 'only to save someone I love'- never himself. Had the Knights allowed Merlin to go, Arthur would have had their heads on spikes by nightfall.

Durstan frowned. "This isn't Camelot, your Highness. Nor are you a mere servant any longer. It's possible the attempt was braved specifically to draw you into such a trap. Our own men will be severely chastised when Mother finds out. The men of Camelot disgraced us by being the first to react to a threat to _our_ Prince." He shook his head. "There will be more than a few who take their own lives in disgrace."

"Forbid it," Merlin threw out instantly, realizing that Durstan was perfectly serious. "If they serve truly, they serve with their lives, not their deaths," he ordered, looking at one of the guards. "Spread the word, and quickly."

Arthur snorted. "Oh no, not a Prince at all," he mumbled sarcastically, rolling his eyes. There was no mistaking the command in that tone. He'd admit, however, that he had found Durstan's statement equally upsetting.

The guard hesitated only a moment before taking off. As he opened the door, the heavy footfalls of soldiers marching could be heard in the corridor.

"Mother," Durstan sighed. He looked quickly at them. "Whatever she says, don't argue with her!" he hissed, going to one knee as the Queen swept into the room, the guards clearly ordered to remain outside. Merlin went to do the same, but Durstan threw his hand back, landing on his shin, stopping him.

The Queen reached out for Merlin, embracing him. "Are you well?"

"I am, thank you. Thanks to Arthur, I was able to stop the blade," Merlin replied gently, though his entire countenance had been shaken by her genuine concern for him.

The Queen drew back, reaching out to give Arthur's hand a squeeze. "Thank you, for the life of my son."

Startled, Arthur nodded. "Of course, your Majesty."

"Durstan," she put her hand beneath his chin, lifting him from his knees. "Tell me what happened. Eliam reported what little he saw, assuring me that Merlin was safe with the men of Camelot. Your sister and betrothed are well. They are under guard, as a precaution, in their chambers."

Merlin turned to Elyan. "Go see Gwen. She'll be upset as well, and would benefit from seeing her brother." His unspoken orders of wanting a Camelot guard on her was clearly portrayed through the unusually hard look he passed along to the Knight.

Elyan cast a quick glance at Arthur, waited only a fraction of a second for his subtle nod, and left. His duty performed, he was anxious to see his sister and was grateful that Merlin had picked up on it. He also appreciated that Merlin put himself in a position to take the chance of insulting the Dumnonian royalty, since they had absolutely no intention of leaving that guard duty solely to Dumnonian soldiers.

Arthur tensed when he saw the Queen eyeing Merlin with a calculating gaze, which the younger met without flinching, clearly understanding she had picked up his silent command. For the first time, the King was beginning to understand the social structure Durstan had tried to explain. For all his titles, he was a foreign dignitary, while Merlin, despite not being born of the Kingdom, was an insider to this.

It shouldn't be so strange, he considered, given that Merlin hadn't been born of Camelot, either.

"I don't know much more, Mother," Durstan explained. "I was with Arthur and the other Court observers on the balcony watching the training yard. It was Arthur who detected something was wrong. He mentioned it only a few seconds before my brother blocked the blade."

"And had the aim been true?" the Queen asked.

Durstan frowned, shaking his head. It was Arthur who answered her. "A wound to the abdomen, your Majesty. Deadly, but slow and painful. I would deduce this was someone with a grudge."

"But a grudge against whom? The Elder Prince? Emrys? Consort to King Arthur, future High King? Or perhaps as a future King of Camelot himself by marriage?" The Queen questioned. "All one person, but so many different motives! And few citizens of our Kingdom would dare such a thing- fewer still who would run from it."

"I can help answer that," Gwaine called, sauntering into the room, cocky as always. There was a slash of blood visible on the side of his tunic, and he had what would be a spectacular bruise on his cheek, but he looked thoroughly amused. Leon, in comparison, walked stiffly behind him, tall and upright.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. "Gwaine! You're alright!"

"Course I am! Just went off to have a bit of fun, that's all," the Knight teased, winking at the warlock.

Arthur nearly took off his own tongue, he was biting it so hard. The Knight did nothing more than dip his head- rather irreverently- at the Queen. She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, her sharp eyes raking over him again with a new assessment.

"Your findings, _Sir_ Gwaine?" Arthur asked tightly, raised eyebrows reminding the Knight of his title.

"According to our puppet, an old friend actually, is the one pulling the strings. There are apparently several other puppets in the City. Only one of them knows where our friend is, and each puppet knows only of one other in case they're caught. I'm not entirely convinced that's the complete truth, I get the feeling he was throwing us off the scent. This is an affair of Camelot, Princess."

Arthur stiffened- not at the use of the nickname, he was far too used to it from the Knight- but at the nasty feeling crawling up his skin. He shot a look at Merlin, saw the same frown on his face. "You're sure? Your… puppet… will testify to this?"

Gwaine spread his hands widely. "Alas, puppets have a tendency to go limp once their strings are cut. But Leon can attest- that answer was absolutely true."

Leon nodded, and Arthur thought he detected a slightly green tinge to him. He didn't know why. It wasn't the first time the man had seen Gwaine in full protective mode over Merlin. His second in command had stood and literally watched the man take Agravaine apart piece by piece. Could he still believe the Knight had limits? Mentally, he lowered himself even further as the _third_ deadliest man in Camelot.

Merlin closed his eyes. "You killed him?"

Gwaine shot a sympathetic look to the younger man, pointing to the cut on his side. "Me or him, Mate. I'm too pretty to die."

The Queen moved up next to Arthur while Merlin argued with the Knight and took a look at the wound, turning her head to Arthur's ear. "Your personal assassin? A Hand of Justice?" she murmured quietly. She was shrewd enough to pick up the subtleties being played out.

Arthur shook his head without looking at her, then jerked his chin at Merlin. Understanding lit her eyes.

"My son doesn't know, does he?" she confirmed. She hadn't known the boy long, but she sincerely doubted him hard enough to employ such methods himself. The genuine pain in his voice when he'd asked after the fate of his assailant had surprised her.

Arthur shook his head again, this time turning hard eyes on her, almost daring her to tell him.

"Does Durstan?"

Arthur nodded slowly, and with his eyes, confirmed the question he could see lingering in her expression. 'Did he kill my son?' screamed at him, and he wouldn't deny it. Bursus had died at the hands of the Knight, though Arthur had never confirmed that, nor gotten details. Gwaine had returned to the castle that night in plenty good form, however, and he would not have if justice for the attempt on Merlin's life hadn't been served to his liking.

She simply nodded back at him, turning around.

"Durstan, as this is an affair of Camelot, reassure the soldiers their honor is secure. I want full protection on the Elder Prince at all times. Make the necessary adjustments to the wedding, as well, as I suspect that will be the next open attempt. Please make sure… Gwaine… has every available resource at his disposal," she locked eyes with the Knight, "and _his_ discretion."

An understanding passed between the two then, and Gwaine dipped his head in gratitude to her.

"Yes, Mother," Durstan agreed readily. He cast a frown at them, then left himself to spread her orders.

The Queen went over to Merlin, and cupped his face with her one hand. "Though not of my womb, do not make the mistake of thinking you're not precious to me," she murmured to him, the one and only time she would ever acknowledge he was not really hers. "It is a gift to love instead of grieve. Stay safe- I could not bear the loss of another son." She kissed his cheek, moving away and out the door before he could respond.

Gwaine clapped his hands together, looking very pleased. "So, it's a hunt, is it?"

Arthur nodded even as Merlin shook his head. The two glared at each other.

"No, Arthur."

"Yes, _Mer_ lin. This isn't some random assassin! You heard Gwaine! It's likely Beonin. You should have let me kill him!"

"What you did was right and just for what could be proven! And I won't have you blaming yourself for letting him go. If he hates me that much, then he'll face me eventually. We don't need to go looking for him, or his puppets. They'll show themselves sooner or later."

"And you're an expert on assassination attempts, are you?" Arthur hissed.

"I've stopped them from killing _you_ often enough! So yes, I think I might know a thing or two!"

"That traitor let an army of mercenaries into Camelot! He tried to sell you to them, who then tried to sell you on the slave market! Or have you forgotten?"

" _Don't_ lecture me, Arthur, I remember _exactly_ what that man has cost me!" Merlin shouted furiously, and Arthur had the decency to look away, swallowing. "Hunting them down will just force him to take more drastic measures which could end up endangering someone else. It's safer to let whoever he's hired to work from the shadows, and we take them as they come. Far less casualties that way! I don't need more ghosts shouting at me every night than I already have!"

"Tell you what," Gwaine interrupted, walking up to them and clapping one hand to each of their shoulders. "You two ladies figure it out between you, and me, _I'll_ go have some fun." He slipped away from them before Merlin could object.

"Leon, go with him," Arthur ordered the Knight, waving his hand at the retreating back of the rogue. "Make sure he doesn't cause any trouble." The Knight nodded, bowed, and left quickly.

Merlin whirled on his lover, anger clear in his expression. "Arthur! He _killed_ the last assassin! We don't need a string of dead bodies piling up in a Kingdom that's not our own! Dumnonian laws are not our laws, and we can't risk a political upset because Gwaine gets carried away!"

Arthur looked at the younger man, wondering not for the first time if Merlin wasn't more aware of Gwaine's true nature- and unofficially adopted role- than they gave him credit for. More and more, the younger man's blind eye reminded him of his own regarding the warlock's magic over the years- forced and surface. Still. As long as it remained unspoken, he was content to leave it that way.

He had no illusions. He could command Gwaine to stop looking until he was blue in the face. The rogue wouldn't listen. That order had to come specifically from Merlin, and Merlin either didn't know, or chose to ignore, that little reality. As far as Gwaine was concerned, that left him free to dole out justice as he saw fit.

And for all that, he couldn't help the grin that split his face. "You said _our_ Kingdom."

Merlin blinked. "I meant Camelot, where we're all from."

"You're not. You're from Ealdor. _And_ you're worried about a political upset." Arthur turned to walk away, knowing the younger man would chase him. "Face it, Merlin, you're starting to sound like royalty!"

"Arthur, you're twisting…" their voices faded down the corridor, Dumnonian servants getting their first taste of what it was to have the two men around.


	6. Going Home: Chapter 6/11

Merlin grunted as the weight on him threatened to tip them both over. "Hang on, Arthur! Almost there!"

The King who's weight he was currently supporting with an arm around his shoulders only grunted, tripping again. "I's t'flor."

Merlin snorted. "Yes, I can see that. The floor in a centuries old castle built by magic is definitely going to be a bumpy one."

The warlock breathed a sigh of relief when they reached his chamber door. He shoved it open, and was pleased when Ian immediately took up Arthur's other arm, having run ahead and been waiting for them. Together they got him to the bed, and sat him on it.

"Ian, get a bath ready, please. And a spare bucket. I suspect he'll need it before morning," Merlin requested.

Arthur decided to reach out for him then, pulling him onto him. They landed with Arthur backwards on the bed and Merlin sprawled partly over him.

"W'r m'rr'd," the King told him with a sloppy grin on his face.

Merlin nodded, trying to sit up, but considering how drunk he was, Arthur had an incredibly strong grip. He smiled down. "Yes, Arthur, we're married."

"'M dr'nk," Arthur slurred, frowning, clearly upset by the idea.

"Well, it's not exactly your fault," Merlin forgave easily. "Durstan and Gwaine both played some pretty dirty tricks on you to get you into this state. And I'm not convinced Gwen is as innocent as she pretends."

"N't n'c'."

Merlin smiled, brushing Arthur's bangs away from his forehead. "They wanted you to have fun, and you did. You can't let go like that in Camelot." He'd never seen Arthur so happy. His lover hadn't stopped smiling all throughout the long ceremony, despite how boring it was, and the celebrations afterward, he'd danced with Merlin, Gwen, and for a lark, even Leon just to make him blush. Several of the Dumnonian Court women had been willing partners as well. "It was perfect, Arthur."

"Hm.. l'v y'u."

Arthur's eyes closed under his touch, completely relaxed and trusting as Merlin continued to stroke his hair, still smiling. It had been a wonderful day, and Merlin could barely contain his own happiness. Today had been a dream so impossible to him that he'd never dared have it at all. He even forgave the switch from 'your Highness' to 'Sire' among the Camelot men. He didn't care. He'd _married_ the man he loved. The gold band of the sacred circle on both their fingers proof to all that they were mated, now and forever, under the eyes of the Triple Goddess and the Laws of Dumnonia.

Since he outranked Arthur, tonight his lover had been nothing more than a man. No trappings or rankings, short of the battles stories he'd had to tell. Merely a newly wedded man celebrating the day. Merlin had watched Durstan and Gwaine all night, a smile on his face as they plied him with drink. It had been enchanting to watch his King relax his guard, taking nothing into account other than he was truly happy for the moment. Merlin could have stopped them, he supposed, but he hadn't wanted to.

He looked up at a knock at the door. He tried to sit up, but Arthur only squeezed him tighter. Thankfully, Ian was quick to answer it, stepping back. Merlin grinned. "Artemis!"

"Sires," Artemis greeted with a bow. He smiled. "I've come to offer my congratulations."

"Any magic tricks to sober him up a bit?" Merlin grinned. Then it fell. "In truth, I _am_ slightly worried, Artemis. They poured a lot of wine into him. And ale. And cider. And anything else they could get him to drink. He's never had so much before."

Artemis nodded, and approached the bed. Merlin managed to wriggle his way out of Arthur's sleep relaxed grip, going to check on Ian's progress with the bath.

"The water's cold, Sire," Ian informed him. "But I thought haste more important, knowing you can warm it up yourself much more quickly." He hesitated. "Though I would suggest waiting to warm it up until _after_ you've dunked his head in it. It sounds cruel, but believe me, he'll thank you for it in the morning."

"Thank you, Ian. I'll get your help getting him into it, then you're dismissed. Take tomorrow off too. He's likely to be a grouch and you needn't suffer through that."

Ian shot the King a worried look. "I think… Sire, if I may…"

"What is it, Ian?"

"Gwaine hasn't found the assassin, Sire. I've been preparing all your meals myself, and they come only from my hand. I would prefer to continue in that duty. I won't deny being concerned that there was no attempt made today," the manservant confessed. "It was a perfect opportunity, especially once it was obvious Arthur would be in no shape to protect you."

"Shhhh, Ian," Merlin hushed him, glancing quickly over to where Artemis was forcing Arthur to drink something. "The last time he got even half this drunk, his father died," Merlin whispered sadly. "I won't have this night ruined for him too. All right, yes, you can bring us our meals tomorrow, but I intend to let him lie in, so don't come before lunch. And thank you, Ian."

Ian nodded, obviously relieved. "Thank you, Sire."

"No more of that Sire business, Ian. I'm not King, and Camelot will never recognize this marriage," Merlin hissed, moving to go over to Artemis. "So?"

"Get him into that bath- I do hope it's cold. He's not drunk so much that he's poisoned himself, but if you can get some food into him, and lots of water, all the better he'll be. I've given him a potion that should help bring him around quicker, but it may also empty his stomach."

"Thank you, Artemis," Merlin said sincerely. He frowned when the druid motioned him into the sitting room. "What is it?"

"Sire-"

"Please don't."

"Merlin, then," Artemis corrected. "The Queen Regent has expressed a concern…" he trailed off when Merlin held up a shushing finger to his lips.

"Not you too. Believe me, Artemis, I remember all too well what the Queen is referring to. There are six guards on that door, four of them Camelot men I trust with both our lives. I have spelled the windows, and I've not had a drop of wine, my magic is at full strength. No one is getting into this room unnoticed tonight. At his core, Beonin is a coward. There were simply too many armed men to try, and his puppets lacked for any opportunity since neither of us were ever alone. It's that simple," Merlin insisted confidently.

The old druid looked at him, nodding. "If you're convinced of your safety, then I'll bid you good night. And congratulations again, Merlin. You both deserve the happiness today brought."

Merlin smiled, leading the older man out. Opening the door, he caught Leon's face, and smiled his thanks before closing the door. Sighing, as he saw Ian had Arthur completely stripped down. The King hadn't even stirred.

Deciding Ian's idea of a cold bath was a good one, he pushed up his sleeves.

**MERLIN101010101010100MERLIN**

Merlin frowned as he woke, uncertain why, then felt a weight on his leg. His eyes opened, and he saw Arthur still sleeping peacefully next to him. Then the weight on his leg moved, and his eyes went wide. Moving slowly, he sat up, bringing his magic to him, careful not to move his lower body.

He felt the movement start to slither against him, and let his eyes flare gold. " _Frēose_!" he whispered. He felt it stop, and remained completely still for a moment, then pushed back the covers, his breath coming out in a rush of panic when he saw the adder. " _Forbærne_ ", he whispered in disgust, feeling no remorse when it crumpled to ash.

He let out a sigh of relief, then turned to make sure it hadn't bitten his lover. He was surprised to see gold crowned blue staring at him. "Arthur, did it bite you?" Merlin asked, ripping off the coverlet to check him with his own eyes.

"Merlin, that was an adder."

Merlin nodded, still looking, breathing a sigh of relief when there were no puncture marks on his lover. "Yes, it was." He looked around the room, letting his eyes go gold. He doubted there was only the one. He switched his vision, looking in every nook and cranny. "Don't move. Don't speak too loudly. There's likely more. A single adder bite isn't enough to kill on its own. No assassin worth his salt would rely on only one."

He slowly got off the bed, confident there were none in the immediate area. He reached for his boots, careful to dump them out, thankful he had fallen asleep in his trouser after getting Arthur finally into the bed. The King had been less than impressed with his dunking, but it had done him wonders, and sobered him enough that he'd been difficult in putting night pants on, wanting instead for Merlin to take his off- though not nearly sober enough to actually do anything had he managed. He slipped them on- the thick leather would protect his ankles. He hoped one _did_ try and take a chunk out of him. The snakes deserved to chip a tooth on the amount of metal buckles that were on the bloody things.

Once standing at the foot of the bed, he held out his hands. " _Onhlídest_!" The candles in the rooms flared under his reveal spell, and suddenly the air was full of angry hissing. A glance out the window showed it was very dark- so likely closer to dawn. They'd been asleep for hours! More than enough time get so many in their room.

He swallowed. The sitting room was full of adders. He turned his head toward his lover. "Arthur, quietly leave the room. No sudden movements, but hurry," he urged calmly.

"Merlin-"

"Don't argue with me," Merlin hissed. "Go!" He didn't dare take his eyes off the two dozen snakes currently agitated in the attached sitting room. "Now!"

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Arthur's bare chest coming from beside the bed. He saw a slither of movement heading toward his lover. " _Frēose!"_ he called out, catching the thing before it could strike. He felt a nip at his boot and realized he'd angered them into movement. " _Run_ , Arthur!" he yelled, even as his hand splayed toward them. " _Frēose!"_ His King was coming toward him again!

Stubborn mule! He threw out another hand and yelled " _Nídgengan_!" the force of the spell shoving Arthur through the door. Yanking his hand back, he closed the door. Swearing, he felt another tug on his leg.

**MERLIN101010101010101010MERLIN**

Leon was shocked when the chamber door he'd been guarding suddenly flew open, launching Arthur out of it before snapping shut again. Confused, he ran over to help his King up.

"Sire?"

"Snakes," Arthur cursed. He moved to test the door, pounding on it with his fists when he found it locked. "You stubborn ass!" he yelled.

Leon pulled him away. "Sire, if there's really snakes then you'll rile them! Merlin obviously feels he has it under control."

Arthur paced in front of the door, mentally ticking off the minutes while his lover- his husband!- was still in a room full of deadly adders. Why bloody _snakes_? Of all the cowardly things to do! He chewed his thumbnail nervously- a habit he'd abandoned when he was a child- as he moved.

The guards watched him quietly, none daring to speak. Arthur rolled his shoulders, feeling antsy. He wanted desperately to reach out with the Bond, but worried it might distract the warlock. Merlin had seemed calm, cool, and totally in control in the room. Adding his agitation wouldn't help him focus on his task.

He'd been so shocked when he'd woken to the younger man's slow movements, to see him calmly taking on an adder about to bite him, he had barely registered Merlin's frantic search of him to see if he'd been bitten. Before he'd had a chance to ascertain whether the same was true, Merlin had been moving. Arthur was furious at the younger man for throwing him out! He wasn't sure how, but he could have helped! Another night when he'd been helpless flashed through his mind. Another night of celebrations that had ended in tragedy because he could barely lift a sword in defense. He savagely shoved it down.

"He's taken on _armies_ ," Arthur growled, "in less time than this is taking. If he's trying to save the furniture I swear I'll kill him myself."

"How many were in there?" Leon asked.

Arthur shook his head. "I don't know. Most of them were in the sitting room. From the hissing, I'd say easily a dozen if not more. Only two managed to make it into the sleeping room. If Merlin hadn't woken when he did…" Arthur trailed off. Why _had_ Merlin woken? The boy was generally a heavy sleeper.

His throat tightened. A bite might wake him. And it wouldn't be beyond Merlin to concentrate more on the immediate threat than any damage to himself. He shook his head, holding his hand out. "Leon, give me your sword! If we all put out shoulders to it, the door will break."

"Sire, no," Leon insisted. "Merlin did the right thing in getting you out. He's far more equipped to handle this than a sword! If you go barging in there now, you could distract him!"

"Let me through, Leon," Arthur growled threateningly. "With or without your help, I'm going in!"

"I'm sorry, Arthur," Leon responded regretfully, motioning with his hand even as Arthur moved to rush him. Two other guards grabbed the King, restraining him. The Knight leaned over and spoke quietly to one of the Dumnonian guards, sending him down the corridor at a run.

"Let me go!" Arthur commanded coldly, struggling against them. "Leon, it's taking too long, you know it is!"

Leon swallowed, glancing at the door. "Merlin is just being efficient, I'm sure," he answered, hoping it was true. "As fast as you are, Arthur, you're not faster than a snake strike."

"Neither is he!" Arthur raged, struggling harder. His breath was coming in gasps. If he'd been more sober, he could have helped. His own senses would have alerted him to so many moving things in their space. Instead he'd been passed out dead drunk, and his lover was going to pay the price. Just like his father had!

He'd been a fool! He _knew_ there was an assassin after Merlin! How could he have let his guard down? He struggled some more. He'd been happy, that's why. A form of delirium almost by itself, the alcohol hadn't helped. Minutes more ticked by as he continued to try and break free. He swore, he could hear every one. No! History wasn't going to repeat itself! He would stop it this time!

"Leon," one of the guards gasped. "If we hold him much tighter we'll hurt him." Arthur increased his struggles, sure now that he could break the door without their help. He'd lost his father to a night of happiness, and now the man he loved! Panic was lending him strength.

"Do what you must. Until Merlin lets us know it's safe, he does _not_ get into that chamber!" Leon commanded, flinching at the look of utter betrayal on Arthur's face.

Just then the door opened slightly, the force keeping it closed obviously let up. The guards released Arthur immediately, quickly on his heels as he ran into the room. The still form lying in the break between the two rooms brought a cry from the King even as he skidded to his knees next to him.

"Merlin!" Arthur gasped out, noticing the younger man's skin was pale, his eyes closed, his breathing haggard. "No!" Arthur sobbed, looking over the boy. There, two bite marks on his arm, and another on his leg. "Get Gaius!" he yelled out, panicked. Two more bites on his calf, one more on his inner wrist. Too many. One wasn't lethal. Even two… there were too many. "He's ice cold," Arthur whispered tearfully.

"Sire, we should get him onto the bed. We've searched the room. He got them all," Leon confirmed, unsure about the King's mental state when he'd called for Gaius, seemingly not realizing he'd done so. "Artemis will be here soon."

Arthur nodded, lifting his lover, and doing as Leon had suggested. He settled his lover gently, sitting beside him. He brushed sweat soaked bangs off his forehead. His hand was shaking. Never again, he swore. "Leon, leave," he ordered shakily.

Leon frowned. "Sire?"

"I said leave. If he dies, I won't… you shouldn't... "

Leon nodded sadly, understanding. He motioned for the rest to stay, then left the room, relieved to see Artemis coming down the hall, thankful he'd thought to send the guard for him before the door actually opened. He moved to meet him.

"What's happened?" the old druid demanded tiredly.

"Someone managed to get adders into their room," Leon informed him. "Merlin has several bites- he isn't well, Artemis."

Artemis closed his eyes, shaking his head. "He was so sure they'd be safe tonight," he whispered in regret. He started off, surprised when Leon didn't follow him. "Sir Leon?"

"Merlin's first priority was getting Arthur out. I wouldn't let him back in," Leon hesitated. "Arthur isn't exactly stable, Artemis. He called for Gaius, not you. I very much believe he would have broken that door down had we let him. He's... dismissed me, for the time being."

Artemis nodded, and continued on his way. When he turned into the room, he was surprised to see it so well lit. Several guards were still poking through every piece of furniture. He headed for the bed, unsurprised to see Arthur shaking more than the boy. "Arthur?" he called.

Tear filled eyes flashed to him, vacant for a moment before clearing. "Help him," he whispered, and there was utter hopelessness in that plea.

Artemis took a look at the bites, breathing a sigh of relief. "Arthur, he's going to be fine." It didn't take much to consider that the King was seeing very little of his lover, and was, instead, seeing a dying father. Gwen had begged the druid to be on alert for just something like this. It had made everyone nervous that the assassin hadn't tried anything during the wedding.

Arthur shook his head. "He's so cold…" He sniffled. "He won't warm up, no matter what I do."

"His magic is keeping his heart beating slow so it won't spread the poison. That's what is making him cold. Arthur, look at the bites." Arthur shook his head, more tears squeezing from closed eyes. "Arthur, please, look at them."

Arthur dared to open his eyes, and he looked at the angry red bites, his eyes going wide. Clear liquid was being pushed _out_ of the bites at a slow but steady rate. His breath rushed out of him in a gush. "He's healing himself," he gasped.

Artemis nodded. "I'll give him an anti venom to be sure, but his magic is already working for him. He's going to be fine. He just needs some rest. Adder bites can cause dizziness. He likely just fainted." Arthur reached for his lover's hand, but Artemis shook his head. "Leave him as still as possible. Let him do what he needs to do."

Arthur looked up, terror in his eyes again. "Did I… when I moved him to the bed…"

"Arthur," Artemis sighed. "He'll likely appreciate the softer surface when he wakes. _When_ , Arthur! Not if! I swear on my life, he is _fine_!" Which is more than he could say for the one patient in the room truly in need of him. Arthur was clearly _not_ fine. Unfortunately, Artemis didn't know what else he could do for him. The King had to find a way to separate the two events for himself. Everyone had heard of Uther's assassination, but ultimately it had been magic that had been blamed. Few knew the details and he had no way of knowing what was safe to mention and what wasn't.

Arthur watched silently as the physician wiped the bites, but didn't wrap them. Taking his cue, Arthur wet a cloth and gently wiped the leaking fluid from the side closest to him. They worked for some time before the King took a deep breath. "My father died the last time I let my guard down. And this time, I _knew_ there was an assassin!" he growled. "I was a fool!"

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Merlin was firmly convinced that he had taken the measures to prevent another night like that, Arthur. He was very conscious of your previous experience, and he was determined this night would end differently for you."

Arthur snorted. "Merlin deliberately used magic to push me out of the room. He was so calm, so confident."

"As he should have done and _been_ ," Artemis nodded. "No one else could have successfully taken on a room full of adders. Don't forget you're Linked, Arthur. Merlin would never have risked your life, not for something as simple as this. If he wasn't confident he would come out of this alive, he would have left the room with you."

"Is that supposed to be a comfort?" Arthur huffed.

Artemis wasn't phased. "I would take it as so, yes. He's aware of his limits, Arthur. I'd say he's come a long way even since I've known him to realize that much."

Arthur nodded. "All it took was making sure it was my life he was risking."

"What would you have had him do?" Artemis asked calmly. "The snakes couldn't remain or they would have escaped and injured- likely killed- someone else. He knew _he_ could survive a few bites, knew _he_ could eliminate the threat. Their next victim wouldn't have likely been so lucky. Would you have done any differently, in his place?"

Arthur stayed silent. One night of pure happiness. Was it so much to ask? He hadn't meant to get so drunk- he'd definitely had very different plans for his wedding night than a cold bath!- but he hadn't resisted it, either. Merlin had been happy- tired, given the long day, but genuinely happy- which had fueled Arthur's own descent into play. And why had he never danced with his lover before? Merlin wasn't much of a dancer, for all his grace with his daggers, but Arthur had loved having him in his arms in front of all those people.

"What if he didn't know? What if he did it anyway because it was the right thing to do?" Arthur whispered.

Artemis shook his head. "Not last night. He may have been willing to lay down his life, Arthur, and in the right circumstances, even yours. But there is _nothing_ in him that could sacrifice _your_ happiness. Consider this a success. We didn't want him afraid of his magic, and he obviously no longer is."

"I hadn't been so drunk, I could have… I would have known sooner."

"You've both been through so much, Sire. Yesterday was a _happy_ day, Arthur. Don't do him the disservice of taking that from you both," Artemis cautioned. "He loved seeing you like that, loose and carefree. You were dancing with Leon when I asked him how he felt about it all. He just pointed at you, smiling to light up the room."

Arthur took a deep breath, and looked, finally, at his friend. "Thank you, Artemis. You're a good friend. I miss Gaius so much. I don't think… I wouldn't have gotten through these last years without you, I want you to know that. I never got to say that to Gaius."

Artemis smiled gently at the boy he was genuinely fond of. He admired how hard Arthur had worked to undo the damage his father had done, to create a balanced world for magical and non-magical. He glanced at young Emrys. He would confess to have been honored to play a part in their lives- even if it hadn't been the part he'd originally expected.

"Gaius would be proud of you both. My beliefs, Arthur, let me say with firm conviction that he was smiling on you all yesterday. I often had visions of Emrys, and Gaius played a part in many. It was clear how much he loved this boy and how much he loved _you_. To see you both so happy would have made his old heart dance," Artemis confessed. "I could almost, with my ties to the spiritual, hear him laughing."

Arthur looked at him. "Merlin will truly be alright?" He sounded like he might be willing to believe it, at last.

"He will. Already the cold begins to leave him. And understand, Arthur, that if this is the memory you take away from a day that was otherwise perfect, it will break his heart. Have as much faith in him as he does in you. He did this _knowing_ he would survive."

Arthur chuckled, seeming to breathe easier. "He's not usually good with healing spells."

"Yes, well," Artemis grumped. "That's why _I'll_ be insisting he stays abed for a day, and will be in frequently to see to him, so don't think to get up to any of your shenanigans! I don't think he's 'healing' himself so much as pushing the poison out. I still want to keep an eye on these bites. They're not weeping any more, but they're not closing either. And he'd best not give any mouth about it, either! Gaius was certainly not the inventor of foul tasting medicines."

Arthur laughed at the old man, already hearing in his mind the argument the two would have in the morning.

No, this night had not ended like the last. Artemis was right. A single moment of nightmare in an otherwise wonderful dream.

He was _married_ to the love of his life. He said it out loud, and then again. He was married to Merlin.


	7. Going Home: Chapter 7/11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: And yup... more slash! Lol.
> 
> MERLIN1010101010MERLIN

Arthur blinked as he woke, surprised at all he had fallen asleep again. He felt the warmth on his skin, and looked automatically to the source. His eyes widened when they took in his lover standing at the window, framed by sunlight.

Merlin was delicately beautiful, he considered. The sunlight made the porcelain skin of his bare lean muscled chest practically glow, and reflected off the dark raven locks that were determined to spike. He'd changed his trousers, was now wearing the black ones unlaced so they hung low on thin hips, showing off the dip of his back, the firm buttocks, and the long legs. He stood with his head slightly cocked to the side, showing off a swan like neck.

That was his, Arthur thought to himself even as he pushed the covers off. That absolutely stunning creature was all _his_! He couldn't resist wrapping his arms around the slim waist, and felt himself stir with the way the lithe frame automatically leaned into every hard pane of his own body. All his! His lips tasted a slight salt of sweat on the elegant throat, but it only made him want more.

"Hmmm, good morning," Merlin panted, tilting his head to expose even more of this throat for Arthur to access, which his King didn't hesitate to take advantage of.

"Is it still?" Arthur asked absently, entirely concentrating on his lips exploring every inch they could access.

Merlin chuckled. "It… well, it's close enough," he answered, shivering when Arthur's lips found their way to his bare shoulder. "Arthur, the door is open."

"Don't care," Arthur groaned, keeping his lips close enough that they brushed skin as he spoke. In fact, the idea seemed to excite him even more, and he trailed his fingertips along the lean muscled chest. "Are you feeling alright?"

Merlin nodded. "Fine." Arthur nipped his shoulder in rebuke. "Better," he corrected.

"Good," Arthur whispered, letting his hand move into the unlaced pants that were doing nothing to hide his lover's appreciation of his efforts. He wrapped his hand around that prize, quickly firming his hold on the waist his other arm was around as Merlin's knees buckled slightly with the contact.

"Arthur," Merlin objected breathlessly, "Window!"

"Glass is blurry," Arthur countered, grasping more firmly as he indulged in long, slow strokes. Merlin's head fell back on his shoulder as he gasped, instinctively trying to move his hips in time with the motions.

Arthur growled as he felt Merlin's backside grind into his own hips in response to his movements. He had deliberately not left room for the younger man to move much, so he could feel every twitch. He sucked the point in the crook of Merlin's throat and shoulder, delighting in the feeling of having his husband writhe against him.

"Ah! Arthur!" Merlin called out in a low voice, tossing his head in an effort to stay quiet as pleasure rolled through him.

Arthur took a quick glance at the door. It was wide open, and there were obviously guards on the outside of it. His own body blocked any view of his lover, however, and the idea of being caught out caused his arousal to flare. "Can you stay standing?" he whispered. Merlin nodded, his eyes squeezed shut and biting hard on his bottom lip to keep quiet as Arthur's hand moved steadily on his length.

Arthur removed his steadying arm slowly, testing, as he increased his pace. Confident the younger man had been telling the truth, he quickly undid the laces of his night pants, grunting as he freed his own arousal from their restraint.

"Yes, please, Arthur," Merlin whispered when he felt his lover's hardness behind him. The loose trousers were easy to push down in the back, making them slide a little further on the hips. "I'm ready," Merlin gasped.

Arthur lined himself up, and pushed slowly in, gasping when he felt just how ready his lover had been! He met almost no resistance despite not having prepared the man. "Gods, Merlin," he groaned, biting the bare shoulder to hide his cry as he fully seated himself inside the incredible and willing body.

"AH!" Merlin cried out, and Arthur quickly put his newly freed hand in between his lovers lips, thrusting sharply when Merlin bit down on it to stifle his next cry. It took him only a moment to find a timing that worked between his short thrusts and his pumping hand. Merlin's writhing body did most of the work for him and he angled his hips to let the warlock grind himself into him.

He let his lips take in that luscious throat again, moving up to the warlocks ear. He lightly nipped the lobe, then increased his pace and with his lips next to his lover's ear, growled in a low voice, "Mine!"

Merlin let out a muffled cry with it, Arthur's hand in his mouth preventing much more than grunts and groans coming through. Arthur moved faster, feeling how close his lover was. Merlin used his tongue to maneuver his hand in such a way that he could suck on the finger, causing the King to stifle his own groan by sucking hard on the pulse of his lover.

Arthur had only the sudden heat in the shaft in his hand as a warning as he roughly withdrew his finger, clamping his whole hand over Merlin's mouth as the younger man spilled essence all over his hand, arching against him, crying out loudly. He shuddered as the warmth surrounding his own girth rippled with the strength of the release, and he pressed himself as deep as he could go, biting into the abused shoulder to stifle his own cry through his climax, still milking the length in his hand, drawing it out for both of them.

As soon as they were both spent, he released Merlin's mouth, immediately replacing the steadying arm as his lover collapsed against him, his body jerking in the aftershocks, quiet little gasps escaping him as Arthur eased himself out.

He quickly wiped his hand, then turned Merlin's face, grabbing his lips, demanding entrance with his tongue. "Mine," he whispered again, this time in complete awe that it was true.

"Yours," Merlin agreed fervently.

Arthur pulled away at the sound of a throat being cleared behind them. He reached down and quickly tucked himself back, doing up his laces, watching with regret as Merlin hastily did the same, pulling up his trousers while he still had the protection of Arthur's body to block him from view.

"I do recall mentioning last night, Arthur, that there were to be none of your shenanigans!" Artemis grumped at them.

Arthur froze for a moment as Merlin let out a tinkling laughter, the King's eyes going wide with wonder at the sound. At the freeness of it. It was like the clearing all over again, light and airy and like windchimes to the ear. Happy, he realized, his heart clenching. Merlin was truly, sincerely, happy.

"Arthur!" Artemis harrumphed again, though it wasn't as harsh this time. How could it be? To hear the heavily burdened warlock let loose with that laughter was, Arthur thought, the most precious wedding gift he could have ever received. It was a special magic all in itself, soothing all it touched.

Noting they were both covered again, and that a still chuckling Merlin was steady on his own feet, Arthur turned around. "Artemis. I'm not sure I recall what you mean," he answered, unable to keep the grin off his face.

"I'm sure you don't." He nodded. "Well, let's see the boy."

Merlin was still smiling as he returned to sit on the bed, patiently sitting through Artemis's exam. The old druid frowned at Arthur on seeing the bite marks that were most definitely not made by snakes on the bare shoulder, but mentioned nothing. Satisfied, Artemis stood back. "The poison seems well out of your system. The bites will heal with time, and might be tender for a few days, but should close up fairly quickly. I would recommend a days' rest, maybe a few days of nothing overly strenuous," the old druid glared hard at Arthur's at that. The King scowled at him in return, defiantly lifting his chin.

"I'm fine, Artemis," Merlin reassured. "I knew I could do it."

"I'd still like to know how they got in here to begin with," Artemis frowned. "You were not wrong to be confident, Emrys. Between the guards and your spells…"

"Wait," Arthur interrupted, glaring at the warlock, pausing in putting on his sword belt. "What spells?" Something jingled in his memory from earlier, something he had over looked in his conversation with the druid, but he couldn't quite place it.

Merlin didn't even have the grace to look embarrassed. "I thought it an appropriate precaution to spell the windows, as well."

Arthur scrubbed his hands over his face. "Just so I'm clear, you were already maintaining a spell when you decided to take on a room full of adders, push me out the door rather forcefully, _and_ push the poison out of your own body?"

"Minor spells, all, Arthur. It takes a lot more than what I did last night to strain me now," Merlin pointed out, waving absently, frowning as he considered something. He stood, going into the sitting room and started looking around.

The King shot a look at the druid, who nodded silently, confirming his silent inquiry. Arthur recalled what the physician had said in the early hours of the morning. Merlin knew his limits now, was aware of how much more powerful he had become. No wonder the warlock had lost control temporarily! If his power had gotten that much of a boost, it was hard to blame the younger man for being frightened of it!

"Here!" Merlin called, hunching down in front of the far wall. He pointed as they joined him. "That's how they got in. The air vent." He turned to his King. "Let's go look at the room on the other side. Artemis, stay here, and answer us when you hear our call, that way we know we're in the right one."

Cocking an eyebrow, the druid could do nothing but nod as Merlin stood and walked away, grabbing a tunic and slipping quickly into his boots, sighing regretfully as he noticed the puncture marks in the leather. Well, he considered, he had challenged the little devils to do exactly that. He hoped they really had chipped a fang!

Outside the room, they found Gwaine and Percival along with three other Dumnonian soldiers.

"Merlin," Gwaine greeted, shooting a wink to the King that let them both know they hadn't been as quiet as they'd hoped. "Good to _hear_ you're feeling better."

Merlin grinned. "Strange to see you on your feet so early, Gwaine. Artemis gave you his morning after tonic, did he?"

Percival laughed even as Gwaine looked affronted. "I'll have you know, my friend, that I am a master of the morning after!" He started following the two down the corridor. "Where are we off to this fine morning?"

"Just to stretch our legs, actually," Arthur quickly answered, ignoring the frown his lover was shooting at him. The King looked at the soldiers. "I think we'll be more than safe with just Gwaine and Percival, thank you," he dismissed.

The soldiers exchanged uncomfortable looks. "Beg your pardon, King Arthur, but his Highness is to be under guard at all times. The Queen's orders. She is less than pleased with the events of this morning."

Merlin snorted, waving a hand at the two Camelot Knights. "I've got the fastest sword and strongest man in Albion with me. I should think that would be appropriate. Not to mention the King's own sword, and my magic. Unless you've got a specific reason for thinking I'm not safe in the castle?" Merlin hinted with a raised eyebrow.

The three men shook their heads adamantly, though only one was brave enough to try one last time. "But the Queen, your Highness…"

"Will hear that you're insulting her honored guests by assuming they would shirk their duties in keeping me safe," Merlin finished. Then he nodded, turning on his heels as if the matter was settled. "I'll call for additional guards if I leave the castle."

Arthur hid his grin, and even Gwaine managed to keep the smirk off his face as they turned to follow the warlock. Percival had a heart as big as his shoulders and so shot the guards a glance of pity. They thumped him on the shoulder when they caught up, snickering. Arthur shook his head.

"I never realized until this moment just how often I've witnessed you do that," he snorted.

Merlin shrugged. "It's a gift." He turned to the two Knights, quickly explaining where they were heading and why.

"So why doesn't Princess trust the new family?" Gwaine asked, having caught Arthur's reluctance to inform the Dumnonian guardsmen.

"Because of _how_ he became family," Arthur growled.

**MERLIN1010101010101010MERLIN**

Arthur frowned, holding his hand up in the stop motion, drawing his sword. They stilled, and the sound hit them all. A hissing sound coming from behind the door they were standing in front of.

"Merlin," Arthur whispered. "Can you freeze them if we can get the door open fast enough?"

Merlin nodded, allowing the gold to come to his eyes, positioning himself a few steps back from where the door would open. Arthur kept his hand on the handle, watching for his lovers' nod, the other two Knights well back from both of them, swords ready.

Merlin nodded, and Arthur pulled quickly.

" _Frēose_!"

Merlin paused only a moment before heading into the room, ignoring a very different kind of hiss coming from Arthur. The warlock frowned, as he took in the room, about a dozen frozen adders could be seen. He cocked his head, listening carefully, one arm flung out behind him to stop the others from entering, lowering it only once he couldn't detect any further hissing.

Arthur went to the vent on the opposite wall, while Merlin moved toward the far side of the room.

"Artemis?" Arthur called. "I think we found the right room."

"Indeed so, Sire. I will return to my duties then, if you need nothing else?"

"Thank you, Artemis."

"Arthur! Over here!" Merlin called, kneeling next to a swollen body. There were puncture marks all over him, and his throat was badly bloated. Merlin pointed to it. "That's likely what killed him." He leaned over, inspecting the body further, feeling it's temperature, checking how rigid the muscles were. "He's been dead for about four hours. I would guess from the marks on his throat, he slowly suffocated under the swelling. Likely dropped the bag," Merlin reached over the body, grabbing the sack.

Merlin barely had time to register the hiss before the streak of black and white was heading for him. He fell over as suddenly steel flashed and two snake bits fell onto his lap, Gwaine pulling his sword back with a grin.

"As he said, fastest sword in Albion," the Knight cheeked at Percival, who was shaking his head.

Arthur found he could suddenly breathe again. Which was, of course, ridiculous. The warlock had survived multiple bites. One more wouldn't have done him any real harm. All the same, he nodded his gratitude to the rogue.

"Merlin, are you going to get up, or just sit there trying to figure out how to kiss the snake?" Arthur growled, noticing his husband hadn't moved, and was instead inspecting the snakehead very carefully.

"I don't think it's Beonin," Merlin sighed. Standing up with the head still in his hand.

"Why's that?"

"This snake has been enchanted." He dropped it, going over to the other frozen ones, cursing as he examined them. "I can't tell with the others. My own spell was too strong."

"What's the enchantment?" came from Gwaine at the same time as Percival asked, "Why can't it be Beonin?"

Merlin shook his head. "I can't tell its purpose… it was sloppy magic. An amateur. I can guess. The snakes in the room came right for me, and the one in the bed ignored Arthur completely."

"We already knew you were the target, mate," Gwaine pointed out.

"No, Gwaine, snakes will seek heat. For the one on the bed, Arthur would have been the more tempting prey. Since my trousers were still damp from Arthur's cold bath, it would have cooled my skin even more. Adders are generally not aggressive creatures. Usually it takes disturbing them to provoke them. The one on my leg was…" he hesitated, casting a doubtful glance at Arthur.

The King sighed, and waved his hand. "I've already figured out it bit you at least once. That's likely what woke you up."

Merlin shrugged. "It might have done, I'm not sure. I was more concerned with making sure it hadn't bitten _you_. But look," he pointed at the icy snakes, deciding to rephrase his point. "They've all gathered around a cold, dead body. Why?" He looked around, nodding toward an open window, then looking back at the grate. "There are none trying to get out. So what would he and I have in common? He must have some magic, which means the enchantment set them toward something I give off in abundance in order to ignore a nice warm source of comfort. They're not naturally nocturnal, and would have been more interested in sleep than attack. The fact that they killed him when they got loose, then stayed with him... the enchantment was to make them aggressive against magic. That explains why they got so much more aggressive when I started using it in the room. Huh."

Arthur shook his head at him. "It's scary the way your mind works, do you know that?" All those years of watching the man hunt down magical creatures. He'd never considered there was a process similar to his own investigations into criminal activity.

Merlin gave him a sad smile. "Gaius and I learned a lot, protecting you in secret. Gaius was a good teacher," he answered softly, turning away again.

Arthur wanted to hug him, but shook it off. "So why not Beonin?"

"Well, since he hates me for magic, I can't imagine he'd employ those who wield it."

Gwaine shook his head at the same time Arthur did. "He might not have known this man was a sorcerer," Arthur pointed out. Gwaine was pulling the man's pockets, and found a small pouch of gold.

"Well, we know they need proof. So. This is a bounty then. None of the puppets I've found so far have had heavy purses."

Merlin shot him a dark look. "You're hunting them?"

"Only when I'm bored," Gwaine winked. Merlin rolled his eyes, throwing an even darker look at Arthur. The King shrugged, ignoring him. "They've all been citizens, too, so he's hiring local."

"I still don't think it makes sense for a man who hates magic to assassinate me in a Kingdom full of potential magic users," Merlin argued. "These druid lines go back centuries. I can practically taste the magic here. I remember the awful things Beonin took great pleasure in telling me happened to magic users in Camelot dungeons. And when I went down to the cells to see him the night before the trial, he spit and actually launched himself at me like a madman. Tried to come right through the bars. That kind of hatred doesn't allow for exceptions!"

Arthur's eyebrows roses. Merlin hadn't ever mentioned _that_! "You… went to see Beonin?" he stated slowly.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Of course I did. Leave over, Arthur, it's in the past."

"Except it's not, mate," Gwaine growled. "The little birdies I've caught don't know much but they're more than happy to sing every tune they know. It's him, Merlin. So the question is, what did you say to him that night that would make him hate you _more_ than he hates magic? Because now we're talking a whole different motive!"

Merlin shook his head. "I don't remember. It was a long time ago."

"Think harder!" Arthur snapped.

It was, Gwaine thought, the absolute wrong way to get the answer. He watched as Merlin's lips drew into a thin line, clamping his mouth closed, and he looked away from the King, ignoring the ice blue fury that stared at him. Getting the warlock's hackles up was never the smart thing to do.

"I think we should tell Durstan about the body," Percival decided to say, then.

All three men blinked at him, as if remembering suddenly that he was there. For such a big man, he was often forgotten in his silence. His sudden statement cut through the tension like a knife.

"It's not our Kingdom, and they have their own laws. I think we should tell him," the man continued.

Arthur nodded, but shot a look at his lover, letting him know this was in no way over.

**MERLIN1010101010101010110MERLIN**

"Arthur, I keep telling you, I don't remember!" Merlin snarled for the fourth time as they entered their chambers.

Arthur reached out and violently grabbed his lover's arm, spinning him around to face him because he was tired of talking to the back of the man's head. "I think you do!" he yelled. "There is a man determined to kill you, and you're stubbornly holding onto information that could help."

"It won't!"

"How do you know if you don't remember?"

"Arthur, let me go. Do you really think I'd hold back if it could help us find him? Don't forget, I'm worried about everyone else he's going to hit in the crossfire!"

"You know _something_ and for whatever reason you're protecting that traitor!"

"I'm not!" Merlin yelled back. "It was nothing! I only went because I felt guilty! It took seconds with the man to realize he was completely insane! Now _let_ me go!" He tried to jerk his arm away.

"Now you listen to me..."

"That is the _second_ time my son has asked you to let him go, King Arthur," came a cool voice from the sitting room. "I don't suggest you make him repeat it a third."

Both men spun, their faces flushing red when they saw the Queen and Durstan standing together. Both had frowns on their faces. Arthur let go of Merlin's arm, embarrassed.

"I don't know how things are done in Camelot, King Arthur, but I'm absolutely certain that manhandling the Prince was never tolerated, even if said Prince was a spouse. I knew your Father very well," the Queen continued, hard eyes meeting Arthur's.

"A lover's quarrel only, your Majesty," the King hastened to explain. "And I'm not my father."

"Funny, it was him I saw just now. You may look like your Mother, Arthur, but I suspect there is still much of Uther in you."

Merlin winced, watching as the words hit his lover like a slap to the face. Arthur paled. He immediately- and deliberately- reached out, putting a reassuring hand on Arthur's arm, shaking his head. "Arthur is fiercely over-protective, and I'm incredibly stubborn. It can make for a volatile mix," Merlin answered quickly, locking his eyes with his husband, nodding his apology. He offered a smile. "It's all a part of our charm. Arthur is _not_ Uther."

The inside joke did little to soften the blow of the Queen's words, but Arthur nodded his acceptance, reaching up to squeeze the hand on his arm, appreciating the defense.

The Queen cocked her head toward Durstan. "So my son tells me. The evidence so far does not bode well to him having been truthful. However, I can easily see that the King is not the only one who is over-protective. In the future, King Arthur, please remember that however it came to be, Merlin _is_ my son and a Prince of the Kingdom in which _you_ are a guest."

Arthur bowed to her, red to his hairline. "Of course, your Majesty." He bowed from the shoulders to Merlin- his anger slightly softened by the irritated glare he got in return- as he would have done for any dignitary he'd insulted. "My sincere apologies, your Highness. I hope you'll forgive me for my rudeness."

Merlin inclined his head, turning toward the Queen and his brother. How odd, he considered, to think that even his own mind now. It came easier now. "We were actually going to come looking for you, Durstan," he said.

Durstan nodded toward the vent. "We heard, Merlin. We've sent guards to dispose of the body."

Merlin stepped forward, looking genuinely concerned. "Did you tell them to be careful? I think I got all the snakes, but… there was one left in the bag that eluded my spell, there could be others," he fretted. "I should go back, someone might need help…"

"Your concern is touching, Merlin," the Queen interrupted gently, sensing genuine concern from the younger man. "We have made them aware of the potential dangers. They will be careful. Adders are not uncommon to the area."

Merlin hesitated only a moment more, looking at the door, obviously torn between obedience and the desire to make sure no one else was harmed. Then he nodded. He was sure he'd gotten them. They'd been standing in the room for a while afterwards. "Yes, Mother," he answered, blushing as he said it.

He tried not to see the beaming smile of approval from Durstan, but he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. Hunith was his mother, and he loved her fiercely. He had felt an instant respect for the Queen, and the more time he spent with her, the more comfortable he became. But… he _had_ a mother.

"I sense that makes you very uncomfortable. I see thoughts of the Honored Mother of Emrys in your eyes," the Queen responded. She nodded to herself. "As it should be. I have often heard you and Arthur speaking in the Ancient Tongue- though how a child of Camelot came to know it defies possibility. If you wish, you may call me, Màthair, where appropriate."

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief and gratitude. "Thank you, Màthair. Yes, that's much better."

"Good. Now, I came to see how you were feeling today after the terrible events of last night. Imagine my surprise when I discovered you had dismissed three of my guardsmen, and found you- who is supposed to be resting- gone." She waved at the vent. "Investigating your own assassination attempt, no less."

Merlin blushed, shifting his weight, feeling very much like he was under Gaius's perceptive eye again. He glanced at Arthur, but the King threw up his hands in a clear signal he wasn't going to help. "Um, yes."

"A confession with no defense, interesting strategy," the Queen sighed. "King Arthur, your Hand of Justice has discovered that it is our citizens making these attempts?" she asked.

Arthur nodded reluctantly. "Yes, your Majesty. It appears there is likely a bounty in place. No matter how many we catch, they will continue to come as long as the bounty remains open. We believe we know the source, we simply can't find him. Knowing why he would risk what he is would greatly further our investigation." He shot a pointed look at Merlin.

Durstan frowned, shaking his head. "We could have helped, Sire, had we known. Assassination is not the same as a murder. There is a guild of those who undertake such bounties. Any one in the Kingdom could have told you as much." There was a very strong hint of insult at the lack of trust.

Arthur, again, humbled himself with a bow from the shoulders toward Durstan. "Once again, I owe apologies. We considered it a Camelot affair, and didn't understand it would be perceived as an insult. My men are under orders to keep things quiet. Forgive me, your Highness."

Durstan offered the same forgiving inclination of his head as Merlin had. "I accept. I understand how precious my brother is to you, Arthur, as he is to me, and to my betrothed. We would not see this investigation hampered and our resources are available to you."

Merlin was anxiously chewing his bottom lip. "Màthair, I'm afraid I may have to risk insulting you further, but I don't understand." He waited for the Queen's nod to continue. "If there is a guild for assassins, why did Bursus simply not hire them to kill me?"

Arthur nodded approvingly- he'd been wondering the same, but he'd caused enough insult and the Queen's lash at him from earlier still stung.

"We are a trade port, Merlin," Durstan explained. "There are many who think they can hide, and escape with a ship. As such, the guild is needed to hunt down those who would use us to escape justice from their lands. That they accept other bounties is an understood, but never spoken of, fact. Had Bursus succeeded in his deed, he would have done so with honor, and it would have been… not approved… but understood as an act of conviction. To hire a member of the guild would have been less costly, but it also would never have been considered an act of conviction. He would have faced severe punishment for it."

Merlin sighed, wincing. "So his failure is what cost him, not what he did."

Durstan nodded sadly. "To act with conviction, one must be willing to risk everything. Every Kingdom has its own sense of justice. Every place we've ever traded to has been the same. We think Camelot Justice can be… harsh, at times, and yet entirely too loose at others. Ultimately, a common theme is that taking a life is a serious thing. Whether it's considered right or wrong often depends on the context. Battles, executions, punishments, even justice- are all generally considered valid reasons. Here, we make sure the validity of context is taken into account _before_ the action occurs."

"I understand, thank you," Merlin responded, rubbing his hands over his forehead, rolling his shoulders, suddenly feeling tired, the beginning of a headache forming. "So Arthur's right. These attempts will continue as long we're in the City, because technically, the guild is sanctioned."

Durstan nodded. "It's true. He's also correct in his assertion that finding the origin is more important than going after the individual attempts. That information, we can't help discern, only interpret how it may be relevant."

Merlin nodded, squeezing his eyes shut when a spike went through his head.

"Merlin?" Arthur inquired sharply, narrowing his eyes, moving swiftly toward him, even as he let the golden crowns burn. He had felt… something… brush the Bond. "What is that?"

Merlin shook his head, regretting the movement. "It's just a headache."

"It's more than that, Merlin, I can feel it. There's something strange in the Bond. I've never felt anything like it before."

"I don't know-" Merlin cried out as another spike went through his head, sharper this time, falling to his knees, a hand fisting on his chest. It felt like something was trying to rip out his insides! He felt Arthur put an arm around him to steady him as his other hand grabbed at his head.

"What's wrong?" the Queen demanded, looking around for an unseen danger.

Arthur immediately let his eyes go black, looking through the Bond, sorting out all it had become, diving to the core of his lover, sensing that's where the disruption was. "It's… I don't know… something is... _clawing_... at him…"

"Can he fight it off?" Durstan asked urgently. "Arthur, if something manages to possess him…"

"I know!" Arthur grit his teeth. "He can't. I can." The Bond had always been _his_ weapon to wield, never the warlock's, and he had honed it to a deadly edge.

"Arthur," Merlin gasped, his eyes flashing to molten gold unbidden. "My magic..."

"Get the Queen out!" Arthur ordered, using the Bond to instinctively throw up shields around the younger man's mind, despite knowing it was too late. He could feel it too. Something was moving along the Bond, a sense of wrongness to it. It was reaching for the threads that Arthur had long associated with the boys' natural magic, trying to pick at them, separate them.

Arthur winced as pain spiked through the Bond, feeling the echoes all the stronger for having immediately gone so deep. He welcomed it. Pain had a cause, and he could track that! There! The pain corresponded with a recoil of the natural magic from the filth riding along it, and suddenly he understood the danger.

"Merlin, something is trying to access your magic!" he breathed, trying to remain calm. "I can see it. It's trying to separate your magic from you."

"It's not possible," Merlin gasped. "It'll kill me."

"What could even try?" Arthur demanded. "Give me _something_ to look for!"

"A spell! It has to be a spell!" He sobbed through another attack.

"Arthur," Durstan's voice came from far away. "Hurry! You're losing him!"

"I can't find it!" Arthur growled in frustration. He tried to center in on the wrongness, but it slipped from him, and even as he watched it wrap itself around the core he was trying to protect, he knew it wasn't the source. That was somewhere else. He could see the fight going on, could see his lover's magic surge up only to be reclaimed by the warlock. He was barely managing to pull it back each time. Arthur searched, trying to find the force behind each push of the wave.

"Arthur!" Merlin screamed in pain, curling in on himself, trying to hold on, to contain what _something_ was trying to rip from him, understanding how dangerous even the surface threads of his magic could be in the wrong hands.

"Hold on, Love. I'll find it," Arthur encouraged even as he cursed internally, having seen the pull and recoil of the thread, could see it was happening more often, more quickly. The filth was spreading even as other coils were tugged and pulled, only to prove unyielding. He got the impression it was supposed to be cut, and then redirected, but Merlin's magic didn't work like that. It was too much a part of who he was, ingrained into every fiber of his being. Whoever had launched this attack had done so foolishly! Anything they managed to get would overwhelm them in seconds. But seconds with even a fraction of the warlock's power would be deadly enough for a great many innocents.

Pain washed through both of them with each increasingly impatient attempt, but Arthur pushed it away. This was _not_ the first time he'd gone tracking in the Bond! He knew it better than he knew himself. So why couldn't he find it? He searched frantically, frustrated that it was managing to hide from him.

He felt the weariness from the Bond, the dizziness and the reaction to the torture. He could hear screaming, but he was too deep in the Bond, weaving through threads. Merlin wasn't going to be conscious much longer, and then there would be nothing to pull back those surges of power.

There! The threads he knew so intimately had shimmered with… something, strange, unfamiliar, and cold compared to the loving warmth that was normally prevalent in the warlock. "I've found it," he breathed. "Merlin, it's so deep in your own magic…" Anything he tried would impact the younger man as well. Every other time he'd been needed to defend, he'd had Merlin's magic to help. This time, he couldn't access it without accessing the invading spell as well- the same reason the younger man wasn't offering any kind of counter spell. Neither knew what the spell was meant to do, or what it needed to work, and neither would risk it so long as the dark spell was present.

The Bond shuddered, and Arthur knew he was running out of time. Focusing on once again being partially aware, he used the black vision, watching motes of magic in the air- Merlin had been right, he thought, it was everywhere here- and found the ones that were just a little off. Where everything was beautiful, these were… less, somehow. He followed them. The window. The Bond whispered at him, reminding him, and he cocked his head to listen. Yes. That could work.

Taking a deep breath, he concentrated again on the shimmering invading magic, weaving the threads of the Bond as he had before, isolating it, caging it like he had the Crystal's loathsome magic. He watched for a moment more as the shimmer bounced off the edges of the trap he'd created. Without Merlin's magic to bind it, it wasn't strong enough to hold for long, but it would give the warlock the time he needed. "Love, reach for it now. Outside the window."

Trusting, Merlin's eyes flew open as he grabbed for his own magic, hurling it into a counter spell with a shout. Arthur watched it surge around his cage, watched as threads wrapped the filth and the invading spell, and fled the Bond as they reached for him, too, understanding _any_ outside source would likely be destroyed in this.

Durstan startled as Arthur's eyes returned instantly to their normal gold crowned steel blue. He'd seen the two interact as Soul Bound before, understood on a basic level that it was _Arthur_ who wielded it, not the warlock, but it never ceased to surprise him to watch it unfold. Recently, it seemed the two had learned to work in tandem.

"Durstan, the window," Arthur ordered, his eyes immediately going to the sweat soaked young man that had, at some point, collapsed against him, forcing his chin up so the King could see his face. "Merlin! Open your eyes. I need to see."

The warlock tried to obey, and his eyes fluttered. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief to see them no longer gold, even as they closed and the sable head fell back limply. Knowing it was safe now, he dove back in, going immediately to the cage he had built. It had been destroyed, as he'd felt it, and the threads of warmth were back, flowing naturally, if in a somewhat agitated state. He reached for it, wrapping it around himself, feeling none of the filth that had been slick on it before, then released it back gently. They'd done it. This time he released the Bond slowly, taking a moment to check the previous shields protecting Merlin's transcended time were securely in place.

"Arthur," Durstan called, an odd tone to his voice. "You should see this."

Easing the warlock onto the floor, he stood on shaking muscles. It was always a little hard, coming back to himself after being so distinctly unified with the other man. It wasn't often he had to flee like that- never before when he'd been so deep- and he made a mental note to avoid doing it again in the future. His stomach rolled a little.

He made his way and looked out, feeling absolutely no sympathy for the blackened corpse still standing below their window, incinerated where it stood so fast it hadn't even a chance to fall yet, one hand stretched toward them. He thought it was a man, that much he could barely tell. A fool no matter what. If the intention had been to gain control of Merlin's power, that might have worked with a mere sorcerer. It was, however, a basis in the Dumnonian religion in understanding Emrys was no mere doer of tricks. A fool to think he could harness such forces at all, never mind survive it. At least Merlin's counter spell had been quick, and relatively merciful, considering.

"The least of what he deserves," Arthur nodded. "He had no idea what he was toying with." He turned away, reaching down and lifting the younger man, putting him onto the longseat, stretching the warlock's legs straight. He didn't have the strength to take him to the bed, and the longseat was closer to the fireplace, warmer. "Why are you still here? Do you have any idea how dangerous it would have been if even a little had gotten loose?"

The Prince walked over with a blanket, tucking it firmly around the shivering warlock. "Once my mother was safe, I returned. I considered that this may be simply a distraction, and you're defenseless when you're so deep in the Bond, Arthur. I wanted a sword at your side."

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, sitting on the floor next to the longseat. "Thank you, Durstan. And you're right. What I can see in that state, it's not a thing of steel and bodies. I didn't even know you'd returned until you shouted at me to hurry. A moment longer and I'd have been too deep to hear even that."

He'd seen the magic that danced around him, though. Sometimes he wondered if what he saw in his Blackened Vision was, on some level, similar to what Merlin saw through his own normal eyes. There was so much about the Bond he could never fully explain to his lover, a fact Merlin understood and accepted. The warlock trusted Arthur had control of it, and that was good enough for him.

"Will he be alright?"

"Time will tell," Arthur answered sadly. "And only that." He thought he would. He didn't feel the Link creeping up on him like it had last time they'd died. And now that the attack was over, he felt no panic, no sense that something precious to him was being threatened. While he couldn't begin to accurately guess what the warlock's recovery might look like, he didn't believe his husband was in danger of dying. A small comfort, after all, but he'd happily take it.

"Do you know what happened?" Durstan asked hesitantly. He knew a lot of what Arthur did was by instinct. They had discussed it often, though the King frequently found it difficult to explain what he did or how. There were enough ancient stories that described the potential for all a Soul Bond could be, but few who had actually achieved it.

"He was trying to take control of an ocean, Durstan, while reaching for a seashell."

"I don't understand."

Arthur thought of a way to describe it. "That sorcerer was trying to reach for his magic as a separate thing, not understanding it's sewn into everything that _is_ Merlin. To him, it felt like something was trying to rip out a part of himself as the spell clawed for something that doesn't exist. He's right. The attempts would have killed him, eventually. The question is, did the sorcerer know that, or was he genuinely trying to possess Merlin's magic?" He scrubbed his hands over his face. Was it really just this morning he'd made love to a playful and happy husband? He felt like days should have passed since then, not hours.

"Arthur, you're exhausted. I'll stay with him. You should rest, keep up your strength in case he needs it later," Durstan suggested.

"That's two back to back attacks, Durstan. We can't stay here, not now that we know they can attack his magic directly."

"There aren't many who could perform such spells, Arthur. Our people have old lines, but few of us would ever be considered 'powerful'. The bloodlines have grown thin. Merlin's announcement over our sister shocked us all."

Arthur leaned his head back on the edge of the longseat, taking some comfort in being so close to his lover, and closed his eyes. "If there was one, Durstan, there are others. We have no way to protect him from that kind of attack. If I hadn't been here, hadn't sensed something was wrong… he thought he had a _headache_ , Durstan. If he had laid down to rest, instead of being here, it would have been disastrous. He doesn't have the tools to fight off that kind of an attack."

"We'll keep him as safe as we can, my friend. I swear it."

"I know you will." There was something nagging at him. A pattern was falling into place, but he was so tired. His mind wouldn't connect the pieces. Very familiar. He should know this!

"You really should get some rest, Arthur."

"Hmmm."

Durstan sighed, moving to get a bowl of cool water and a clean cloth as Arthur's breathing evened out, right there on the floor.


	8. Going Home: Chapter 8/11

Artemis sighed as he applied a fresh cooling cloth to the warlock's brow. Merlin's fever had started only an hour after the shivering had finally stopped. He could detect nothing physically wrong with him, and assumed the fever was a delayed reaction to trying to fight something off. It had bounced back and forth between periods of being high and then low. Nothing he gave the boy made any difference.

He was glad he'd had Percival move them both to the bed. Merlin hadn't woken, and Arthur had only been semi-aware, awake enough to help walk, but not enough to get them there himself. He'd returned to sleep in seconds, and Artemis was doubtful he'd remember waking at all. The unrestful night in addition to the battle to stop the spell had taken a lot out of the King.

"Thank you, Ian," he smiled as the manservant replaced the now tepid water with cooler. The manservant had arrived with the boys lunch, horrified by the scene he'd walked into. Though Artemis had to wonder if it had been his once again unconscious Master, or the sight of King Arthur asleep on the floor that had upset him.

That had been hours ago. The sun was setting now and the manservant had been keeping quiet in the corner of the room, repairing clothing, ready to run for any request Artemis might have. The druid had not, however, missed the appearance of a dagger sheath on the man's hip.

"That weapon can't protect them from magical attacks," he pointed out.

"No, but while they're asleep, it'll protect them from anything else, even if it's the last thing it does," Ian answered evenly, not looking up from the sewing he had returned to. "You're here to worry about the magic, and I assume you would do no less."

"You know how to use it, I take it?"

"Well enough."

"You're a complicated man, aren't you?" Artemis chuckled.

"I was, once. Now I am manservant to Merlin, and all he is. I'm content with that, and will not hesitate to use any skill I may possess in his service," Ian replied in that same tone.

"And the King?"

"Is the King," Ian deadpanned, as if it were truly that simple.

Artemis huffed a laugh, replacing the cloth again when the boy tossed his head. The fever was climbing again. "I sometimes wonder where the Queen Regent found you, Ian. And if she knew the gift she was giving the boy."

Ian snorted. "Hardly a boy, to have suffered so much, despite his youthful appearance."

Artemis nodded, accepting the truth of that. "At my age, Ian, you're all boys to me."

The manservant had no reply to that.

Artemis looked over to the other side of the bed as Arthur stirred, and reached over to stop the arm that had been about to fling itself over his lover. The aborted movement had the King's eyes flying open.

"Arthur," Artemis greeted. "I see we're back into old habits."

The King snorted, withdrawing his arm as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. "How is he?" he asked automatically.

"I'm not sure, in all honesty. There's nothing physically wrong with him. I think this is a reaction to the dark magic."

Arthur nodded, letting his eyes burn as he did a quick scan with the Bond, ignoring the tsk that came from the druid. "Can you give him something for the pain?" he asked.

Artemis nodded, moving to the table which held his herbs. "I wasn't aware he was in any, thank you, Arthur." He hesitated. "You do recall he doesn't like being given remedies without his awareness?"

"Trust me, Artemis," Arthur replied softly. "He needs it. He knows he needs it."

Artemis nodded, turning back to his work. "That Bond is a remarkable thing, Arthur. Durstan described the attack to me in full detail. You did well, acted quickly. I shudder to think what may have happened if you hadn't been there."

"The attacks are escalating, and we never know how or where the next is coming from. I feel like I'm at the bottom of a ravine in an ambush. I can see the arrows coming, but I can't track where they originated," Arthur groused.

"Like a rabbit in a hunt, surrounded by beaters on all sides," Ian muttered from the corner.

Arthur's eyes went wide as that familiar feeling became clear to him. He stared at the manservant, met eyes that had cast up to his, saw the hard determination in them. Ian had seen the pattern! "Of course," he breathed in realization. "We're being harried." He threw back the covers, heading for the door.

He was surprised to see Leon on the other side. He felt anger flare in him- had it really only been last night since the snakes? So much had happened since! "Leon, where's Gwaine?" he asked.

"He said to tell you he and Durstan have gone Hunting, Sire," Leon answered formally. There was a shadow of guilt on his face, and Arthur sighed.

"I owe you an apology, Leon. It took courage to stand up to me, and I am sorry I took my anger out on you," the King apologized sincerely. "I know what you did, you did with my best interest at heart."

Leon looked relieved, but nodded. "Thank you."

Arthur turned to go back into his chambers when the Knight called to him again. "Arthur? I would risk anything for him, you know that, I hope."

"Even my ire, apparently," Arthur casually accepted with a smile, letting him know all was truly forgiven. "Have Gwaine report to me as soon as he gets back."

He closed the door. Hunting! He snorted. They'd gone to the guild or Arthur would eat his own boots! He suspected he knew what they'd find. Beonin wanted them out in the open. The Bounty was a facade. The former Knight knew very well there were none in the city powerful enough to take Merlin on. He'd been there, after all, the day Merlin had killed almost 500 men with a thought. These attacks were meant to chase them out of the City. But what was the plan then? Would he attack? Was he alone? If they left for Camelot, they'd be riding with nearly a hundred soldiers. Surely the man wouldn't attack them then?

"Sire?" Ian inquired from his place as he watched the King pace. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

Arthur shook his head, then frowned, stopping his pacing closer to the servant. "You saw it. When?"

Ian didn't bother to deny he knew what Arthur was asking. "I couldn't confirm it until this recent attack. I began to have my suspicions with his flashback, Sire."

Arthur frowned. "His flashback? That was just caused by the crowds, too many people touching him. It brought back… unpleasant… memories. It's happened before."

"It has, and each time a source has been clearly identifiable." Ian nodded. "I wasn't there for the event, Sire, but I am aware of it. Not the details, of course. But your swift, and slightly ruthless, justice to your own Uncle left little room for what could have been severe enough to prompt such a thing. In addition, each episode was triggered by specific circumstances with repeating themes."

Arthur ground his teeth. "And your point?"

"If I recognized the pattern and discerned the cause, so can anyone else. As it's been some years since you've had a properly trained servant, Sire, I will remind you that it is our job to watch our Master's very closely, lest they need the slightest thing. Some won't even deign to tell you- they expect you to know. It didn't take long to notice my Lord getting… upset… with the crowds. After that, instead of one or two touching him at once, it became three and four, then ten. The same pattern in every town. When it became obvious your political duties would keep you away from him, Sir Gwaine and I did our best to take up as much space around him as possible."

Arthur frowned. "Why didn't you report any of this to me?" He was reminded, suddenly, of not too long ago grinning at Merlin and declaring with full confidence Gwaine and Ian both would take his secrets to the grave with them.

"At the time, Sire, it was Gwaine's… solicitous… behavior toward him that alerted me this wasn't a normal reaction for him. I have never been with my Lord in such crowds before- not without you by his side. In Camelot, he is surrounded by those he loves, and who love him in return. Because he loves them, he tolerates much from them- myself included, if I may be so bold. This was my first experience in understanding that he actually doesn't _like_ to be touched, Sire."

"But it was here, at the Castle, that he finally broke down."

It was Artemis who cleared his throat. "By then, Arthur, it was only a matter of time. He'd taken as much as he could. I saw him several times that night, and even I could see he'd reached his limits."

Arthur sat down on the end of the bed, shaking his head. "Why wouldn't he come to me?"

"Arthur, you know how much he hates those episodes. And while he'll push every limit you've got as a lover- now husband- he has _never_ disturbed you while you were performing your duties as King for a personal matter," Artemis chided gently. "Knowing Merlin, he likely felt he could handle it himself."

"So you think Beonin is following us, and has been for some time."

"I've never met the man, Sire. But from the details I got from the other Knights, there is considerable reason to think Beonin may blame Merlin for his fall from grace. Once we were inside the City, our movements would have been carefully watched, if only from distrust," Ian replied. "No, the best plan would be to work on you, Sire."

"Me?" Arthur asked incredulously. He waved a hand at the sleeping warlock. "I'm not the target!"

"But you are," Artemis agreed, nodding with respect at the servant. "Of course. If there is a single common fact known to all in Albion, it's how protective you are, and have always been, of the boy."

Ian nodded. "Your first instinct is always to remove my Lord from harm, Sire. Gwaine told me what happened that day. Beonin misjudged you before, and paid dearly for it. He is clever enough to have decided to turn it to his advantage."

"That's why there's been an escalation in attacks after the wedding," Arthur groaned. "I'm far more likely to give in to the pressure to leave. They're going to get worse."

Ian nodded. "I believe so, Sire. Though it's my understanding that there are few in the city powerful enough to reproduce the same attack as earlier. Of those, only one was a part of the guild, and my Lord disposed of that threat earlier."

Arthur eyed the servant. "I'm beginning to think, Ian, that you're a man of many secrets."

"Layers, Sire, not secrets. If you wish to know, ask. I will answer honestly. But you must be prepared for the consequences of the knowing," Ian replied, using his teeth to break the threat from the piece he'd been working with. "In the meantime, I saw no harm in partaking in some idle gossip. As I said, servants watch everything."

"Well, we know Gwen's safe. She spends most of her time with either the Queen, or Elloise, or Durstan himself. I've barely seen her." As he'd instructed. She'd wanted to come, but he had made a point of passing along the message to Durstan that her close relationship to Merlin should be hidden, for now. She hadn't been pleased, but she'd agreed. "That just leaves the rest of us in the crosshairs."

Merlin twisted on the bed, his soft cry interrupting them. Artemis was closest, having just given him the remedy he'd made, and leaned over him, instantly putting out a hand to check the progress of the fever. "He's still burning up, Arthur. I don't know how to treat him for this."

"I don't think you can, Artemis," Arthur sighed sadly. "And that cry wasn't pain. _That_ is the beginning of a nightmare." It hurt him on a deep level that he could easily distinguish between the two, having heard both often enough.

Ian stood. "I'll be sleeping on the longseat in the sitting room if you have a need tonight, Sire. I'm a light sleeper, so you need only call out. If his fever isn't down when you're tired, wake me and I'll take watch while you rest."

"Thank you, Ian. Another set of eyes can't hurt. Artemis, you've done all you can, for tonight. Though perhaps one of your strengthening teas for him in the morning?"

Artemis nodded, knowing that Arthur wouldn't be sending him away if he wasn't completely confident the boy wasn't in mortal danger. "I'll have a servant-"

"I'll get it from you, Artemis, once he wakes," Ian cut in. "Nothing either of them consume should come from any hand but yours or mine."

The old druid shot the man another shrewd look, then nodded.

**MERLIN1010101010101010MERLIN**

Arthur no more had a chance to close the door behind him before the flash of yellow that was Gwen launched herself at his unsteady husband, enveloping him in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry. They wouldn't let me see you. Are you alright? You're shaking, of course you're not. Arthur! Why is he so warm? How could you let him out of bed? Oh I'm so glad you came!" Gwen rambled out all at once, never once letting up the fierce hug.

"I'm alright, Gwen," Merlin reassured her with a smile, hugging her back. "It's good to see you, too. Though sitting would be a thought, soon."

Pulling back, Gwen nodded, helping the obviously weak warlock to one of the chairs near the Queen, sitting at the head of the small dining table.

"Arthur, I must confess," the Queen said as she looked at the King, still stationed by the door. "That I'm unaccustomed to such secrecy within my own home. I trust my staff, and while I understand your instinct to protect, I dislike the insinuation that you do not."

"Màthair, my apologies, but the secrecy of this meeting was not Arthur's idea. He was, in fact, adamantly against it," Merlin spoke up. "We will explain everything once Durstan and Gwaine arrive."

The Queen nodded, reaching out and squeezing his hand. "I am glad to see you're doing better, Merlin. Artemis reported directly to me that Arthur was confident in your ability to recover from the attack. It breaks my heart to know the trouble this visit has cost you. We wanted you to feel at home here."

Merlin laughed. "Believe it or not, Màthair, it's not so different from my time in Camelot! Except it's usually Arthur who is in danger, and me running around desperately trying to keep him alive!"

Arthur scowled at him, and Gwen hid her smile behind her hand. His response, however, was cut off by Ian's arrival, Durstan and Gwaine in tow. He eyed the corridor after they entered to make sure they hadn't been followed, then closed it tightly again.

He smiled when apparently Ian had decided to make a stop, pouring Merlin a cup of hot tea, which Arthur could smell from where he stood was one of Artemis' herbal concoctions. From Merlin's grimace, it didn't taste any better than it smelled, but the boy drank it.

He _had_ been against this meeting. Merlin's fever was much lower, but still present. The attack, while no longer life threatening once stopped, had taken a lot from him. His lover should be resting. But Merlin had pushed for this, and the King was incredibly curious what the younger man had up his sleeve. He had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't like it much.

"Gwaine, Durstan," Merlin greeted. "News from the guild?"

"Simple enough," Gwaine answered. "Kill you. Bring proof of your death back to the guild, though the description as what is 'proof' is vague. Get paid."

Durstan nodded. "The guild master was unhelpful in providing a link to where the proof would go. His discretion in such matters is what keeps the guild safe. We tried gold, a royal order, and Gwaine plied his hand at… gentle persuasion… nothing would loosen his tongue. Not that I expected it to. The man has been a consistent hindrance to us on more than one occasion!" The Prince sounded truly frustrated, and Gwaine looked like he desperately wanted either a drink or to hit something- or preferably both.

Merlin sighed, and nodded. "Then there's only one thing left to do. We need to flush Beonin out instead of him continuing to harry us. Let's give him what he wants."

"Merlin," Arthur growled, dropping his head against his hand. "If you're suggesting what I think you are, I may decide to collect the bounty myself."

The Queen measured the warlock again with that calculating gaze, and both Durstan and Gwaine were clearly unhappy. Gwen only sighed.

"The longer these attacks go on, the more likely it is someone else is going to get hurt. Next time it might be any of you. No, listen, Arthur. What you and Ian said makes sense! He wants me out of the protection of the City. So. Let's make it be on our terms, not his! We can't stay forever, and I don't want to be chased out before Gwen's wedding. He'll never go near us with an army at our backs, which means we're just taking this fight back to Camelot with us," Merlin insisted.

"And how do you propose to do this?" Gwaine dared to ask, casting a quick glance at Arthur, giving a subtle shake to his head.

Merlin shifted. "I see two options. One, we kill me- same way we 'killed' Arthur when Uther needed to cry, give the proof, and follow the guild master. The second… Arthur, Gwaine- and only because he'll never believe we'd go alone with assassins on the loose- and I make it fairly obvious we're 'sneaking' out of the city and let him find us. I don't imagine we'll make it much more than a day or two out of the city, pending the numbers of villages. He's a coward, he won't attack until he feels safe."

"You really are an idiot," Arthur hissed.

"Actually, both plans have merit," the Queen interjected, nodding to herself.

"Mother!" Durstan objected in shock.

"Don't forget, my son, that we are responsible for every life in our Kingdom. Merlin is right. Sooner or later, someone else is going to get hurt. His counter spell yesterday was blindly flung and could have taken in anyone. We were fortunate the sorcerer deliberately chose a quieter time of day to attack. Unless, Emrys, you can give me your word that the only danger was to the caster?"

Merlin shook his head. "I cannot, Màthair. The very real threat of my abilities in the wrong hands was worth any risk to end. A fraction of my power could bring this Kingdom to its knees," he answered frankly.

"But surely there must be another way?" Gwen asked, pacing. "You said yourself, he's gone mad with hatred. When he was a Knight of Camelot, he was an excellent strategist and a fine swordsman. Being mentally unstable doesn't lessen those two facts. He found a way to bring hundreds of men unknown into Camelot borders, something not even the worst our enemies have ever successfully done before or since."

"Gwen's right. If anything, it makes him even more unpredictable," Arthur agreed. "If we make anything too obvious, he won't go for it. We'll only get one shot at this."

Ian cleared his throat. "If there was a time to fake my Lord's death, it would be now. He's still ill from the most recent attack, as anyone who has seen him this morning will attest to. The details of the attack are vague, even in gossip. Many aren't exactly sure what happened, only that Emrys reacted badly to it, and that it was magical in nature. I doubt there would be many who could accurately predict whether it should have been lethal or not."

"Before we worry about the how, I want to know what's to be done with him when we catch him," Gwaine put out. "If the tender heart here is just going to let him go again, then this is all moot."

Merlin scowled at the Knight, but Gwaine met his glare with one of his own.

"It's a valid point, Love," Arthur agreed quietly. "We let him go once, and it came back to bite us. If we're just going to provide the same opportunity again, then none of this is worth the risks we're discussing."

Durstan shook his head. "Dumnonian law is no protection here. There is nothing illegal about creating a bounty. And we have little enough proof to connect it to him specifically other than a few of those who were likely around when it was placed. All of whom are now dead."

The Queen nodded. "My son is correct. This must be handled under Camelot justice. Your Hand of Justice has been protected from his actions only by the nature of his station, for Hands frequently work by skirting the fine lines of the law."

"Then we'll take him to Camelot," Merlin ground out. "And provide a trial under the law, Arthur!"

"Ah yes, because that worked so well last time," Arthur agreed sarcastically. "If he attacks us on Dumnonian soil, then under the agreement signed by both Kingdoms, Camelot law does not apply here. If we take him back to Camelot and give him a proper trial, then he is not guilty of any crimes to or in Camelot. Despite being a citizen of Camelot, he could make a legal argument regarding your primary status of being a Dumonian Prince, therefore demand to be judged under their law."

Durstan nodded. "In either case, he'd be released and likely to try again."

"I never mentioned Camelot law, Arthur," the Queen put in, meeting the King's hard eyes with her own. "I said Camelot justice. It is my understanding that there is a distinctive difference between the two."

"Arthur is not Uther, Màthair, to execute innocent men," Merlin growled. "Beonin was stripped of his Knighthood, of his titles and land, as was just at the time. The King _will_ uphold the law!"

"No, Love, I won't. If we're going to risk any of this, Merlin, then I want an end to it," Arthur stated plainly, not blinking at the incredulous glare Merlin shot him.

Gwen nodded slowly. "I agree. Neither law will condone what he has done, but neither will condemn him either. He'll just wait for another opportunity. If law is not available, then all that is left is justice."

"Gwen!" Merlin gasped, wide-eyed.

"Then that settles it," Gwaine said, nodding.

"No! It doesn't! Are you _hearing_ yourselves?" Merlin shouted, throwing himself out of his seat, pacing the room wildly.

"None of us are asking your permission, mate," Gwaine replied steadily. "This was your plan."

"No, my plan was to flush him out into the open!"

"And then what? Hand him a sword and hold you in front of him to make it easier for him?" Gwaine yelled back, unflinching.

"How is killing him _justice_?" Merlin yelled back furiously. "He hasn't managed to kill me yet! He's done nothing wrong!"

"See, those were the exact same words that got us to where we are now!" Gwaine spat. "I let you talk me into it last time. I never make the same mistake twice, my friend."

"Well why don't we worry about catching him first?" Merlin hissed, closing his eyes in dizziness and leaning over to place his hands on the table.

"Sire, perhaps it would be wise to return to resting," Ian suggested, putting a steadying hand on his Lord's shoulder. "This plan can wait for a few days until you regain your strength."

Merlin opened his mouth to object, but then something settled into his expression, and he nodded, wearily. "Yes, thank you, Ian."

Arthur watched the servant help his lover from the room, sighing.

"You think that did it, then?" Gwaine asked him.

"If not tonight, then tomorrow night for sure," Arthur replied, his heart clenching in fear. "Be ready."


	9. Going Home: Chapter 9/11

Arthur stood by the window, watching the cloaked figures quietly leading the horses out of the square. His eyes hardened. He absently let his fingers trace the one figure on the glass.

"Did you even hesitate, Love," he whispered, "did any thought of us whisper through your mind at all? Would you have let me do this, were our positions reversed? So many times I've had to let you go, to brave all for the right thing. Is this right? To see a murderer spared? Do you know the difference, anymore between an innocent and the guilty, or do you see only a life? Is this war against death itself going to be our new battleground?"

He sighed. Questions he'd never get the answers to. No. _He_ had put this in play. Now all he could do was wait. And hope even while he doubted himself.

"Sire," Leon called from the doorway. "The report came in. He left moments ago."

Arthur nodded, jerking his chin at the window. "I saw. Gwaine knows?"

"Already behind him. So far the only thing that hasn't gone as you said it would was that he took the servant, Ian, with him."

Arthur snorted, mentally congratulating the manservant for being so perceptive. Had Ian known all along? There had been nothing in the servant's demeanor to suggest it, but Merlin would have dismissed him for the night before attempting this. Which meant Ian had deliberately followed him. Well done, he thought to himself. Well done, indeed.

"Then it's out of our hands now," he answered.

He never moved from the window, his eyes staring out intently, watching for the cloaked figures to return, praying in his heart that he'd done the right thing in allowing this. Trying to remind himself he'd had no choice. That all he was doing was taking advantage of how predictable his lover was.

It brought no comfort as the hours ticked by.

**MERLIN10101010101010110MERLIN**

Merlin worked quickly in saddling his horse, thankful the groomsmen didn't sleep in the stables. He threw a small saddle bag packed with a few things he hoped he wouldn't need. Reaching down, he secured his daggers, surprised to find they had become a welcomed and reassuring weight on his legs.

"The left one is looser than the right, Sire," a voice called from behind him, making him whirl. "With the chafe of the ride, they'll become unbalanced."

"Ian," Merlin sighed in relief. "What are you doing here?"

"Apparently the same as you, Sire. I'm in the mood for a late night ride."

Merlin hesitated, narrowing his eyes at his manservant even as Ian knelt and adjusted his sheaths. "I was hoping to go alone, Ian."

"I'm sure you were, Sire. But as you said, Beonin would never believe you'd be allowed to leave on your own."

"I'm not-"

"Sire," Ian chastised lightly, going to his own horse and began preparing the mare. "Please don't insult us both."

Merlin sighed, then frowned. "You haven't told anyone?"

"No, though I can think of a thousand reasons I _should_ , Sire," Ian replied evenly. "However, I thought it best to reserve _that_ threat for if you tried to stop me from coming with you."

"It could be dangerous, Ian," Merlin warned.

"Most likely, Sire," Ian agreed.

"I'm not going to kill him," Merlin insisted.

"You'll do what you believe best, Sire, I'm sure of it. I can imagine you have no intention of risking the King's life through the Link, and therefore have a suitable plan for bringing this entire situation to a resolution," Ian answered calmly, walking his horse to stand next to his Lord. "Shall we? Dawn comes quickly enough."

Merlin nodded, letting his manservant follow him into the night, wishing he was nearly as confident in what he was doing as Ian had suggested. The reminder of the risk to Arthur if this proved foolish had been enough to make him flinch, but he set his shoulders firmly in resolution. He didn't know what would happen, but he knew in his heart that he _needed_ to give the former knight this chance. He knew what he was willing to risk, and what he wasn't. This wasn't some foolish whim taken on lightly. Beonin had already paid a hefty price for his treason. Hatred and revenge would cost him what little he had left. Freedom was on offer, and Merlin _needed_ to make that offer before the man lost everything, for nothing.

**MERLIN101010101010101MERLIN**

Gwaine followed the two figures silently from a safe distance, cursing himself. He'd argued with the Princess, swearing on all that was holy that Merlin wouldn't be this foolish, that he'd never pursue the exiled knight on his own. Most of all, he'd firmly believed Merlin would never risk Arthur's life like this. Those in the inner circle may not have understood everything, but they knew, risking one was risking both. That a magical link was somehow involved.

Because those two didn't have enough freakiness between them, he thought. Many contributed Arthur's new eyes and abilities to a spell of Merlin's, but he knew better. Durstan had happily filled him in on everything he knew and understood about a Soul Bond, which wasn't much. He didn't pretend to understand even half of it, and chose to understand instead that Arthur, somehow, had a weapon that could protect their warlock on a level no one else could. Except, apparently, from himself.

Despite that, Arthur had- correctly- predicted every move the warlock had made so far. It irked the Knight, who loved the boy as much in his own way. Hand of Justice, the Queen had called him. And he admitted, he _liked_ the sound of it. He was the least noble of Arthur's Knights, he was sure, but the most useful, the most willing to get his hands dirty where others wouldn't. For Merlin, for his first real friend, he'd do anything. Blood washed off easily enough.

He glanced at the sky, saw the pre-light of dawn creeping over the horizon. Very soon, Princess would have to play his part. He didn't imagine it would be difficult for the King. The anger that had seethed off the man as he'd described exactly what Merlin would do had been palpable. The Knight had no cause to believe it would have cooled any in discovering he'd been right.

**MERLIN10101010101010101MERLIN**

Arthur sighed as the sun rose slowly. Almost time for it, then, to play out his part. Nothing in him agreed with what the warlock had done, but everything in him had known he'd do it. His rage wouldn't be hard to stir. His husband was nothing if not predictable. The more they had tried to protect him from it, the more the warlock had chafed at his restraints. This had been as inevitable as the creeping into the sky. He calmly walked over and rumpled the unused bed. Time for it to begin.

"Guards!" he called in a fury, and set about pacing the room.

He wasn't surprised when two Dumnonian guards crashed through, expecting trouble from the tone of his voice.

"Where is the Elder Prince?" Arthur demanded, waving toward the empty bed. "He didn't return last night. Where is he?"

The guard's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "I… I'm afraid I don't know, Sire. The shift before us never reported he wasn't in the room."

Arthur felt his face flare red in anger at the very real ineptitude of the guards. "So you mean to tell me that there's an entire guild of assassins looking for your _Prince_ , and _no-one_ thought it wise to report he hasn't been seen?"

The guard's own face went red with shame, and from the corner of his eye, Arthur could see the others in the hall shifting uncomfortably. Good. He looked at the guard, letting his irritation be seen as the man shuffled his feet, but remained where he was.

"Then why are you just standing there? _Find_ him! And get me an audience with Prince Durstan and the Queen!"

He almost felt guilty for how fast the man moved.

Almost.

**MERLIN10101010101MERLIN**

Arthur smashed his way through the doors of the audience room, slamming them behind him. He took a deep breath, and fell lightly against them, closing his eyes, berating himself for ever thinking he could survive this. For thinking it would be easy.

"Was that really necessary?" the Queen asked him with irritation, causing the King to shove away from them and move closer to her, seated at the head of the table. There were no servants, no guards in here. Just the four of them.

"I'm afraid it was, your Majesty," Gwen answered for him. "Arthur's reaction has to be perfect for this to work. I'm afraid his temper has never done well when it comes to Merlin."

"Are you absolutely sure this is the way, Arthur?" the Queen sighed. "It seems very risky."

Arthur shrugged. "I never claimed it wasn't, your Majesty. But I know that man better than I know myself. There was _nothing_ we could have done to avoid this. He would have found a way around anything we tried- it's my least favorite of his unique skills. The one and only man who _might_ have had a _slim_ chance to stop him is dead, and even he failed more often than not. No, if it was to happen regardless, it has a better chance of success if we support him rather than fight him." A lesson it had taken him far too long to learn, he feared.

"And you're sure Gwaine will be able to follow him without being seen?" Durstan asked. He had been the least supportive of this. In the end, it had been Gwen who'd forced him to concede, to allow for the reality of just how far Merlin would go to preserve a life.

"If anyone can, it's Gwaine," Gwen snorted. "He can make shadows appear noisy when he puts his mind to it. Which just makes him all the more frustrating when he chooses to be deliberately loud and obnoxious."

"It doesn't concern you, sending one man against this enemy?" Durstan asked. "We have no way of knowing how many men he has with him, where he's going to attack, or even when."

"It doesn't matter," Arthur answered quietly from his seat. "Ian tipped the scales."

"Arthur?" Gwen asked, hesitantly.

"Something… this is familiar…" Arthur murmured, closing his eyes. He cocked his head, as though listening for something. It pricked at the edges of his awareness, like a memory contained trying to come through. Nothing clear, nothing more than an instinct. But somehow he knew, without doubt, that Ian's choice to go had changed everything.

He wished he knew whether it was for better or worse.

**MERLIN1010101010101010MERLIN**

"You're absolutely sure?"

"The King of Camelot is in a state of fury over it. He has every guard and Camelot Knight searching."

"Who else is missing?"

"The servant and the deadly Knight have also not been seen."

"And the Royal Family?"

"Worried, but trying not to let it show. There were rumors of a meeting two days ago where the Queen expressed some anger over the carelessness Emrys displayed in his counter attack. There are whispers that he left from guilt."

"It's possible. And a small escort _did_ successfully get out of the City unseen, even by my own eyes and ears. If he's recovered from his illness, he would be a formidable opponent in his own right. It's difficult to believe the young Prince would go without informing his King, and newly wed husband, however."

"There are stories, my Lord, of the Prince being headstrong, and frequently disobedient. Just before coming, I heard the Camelot Knights grumbling to each other over how often Emrys will take foolish chances to protect his lover. The Prince may have feared his King to be the next victim."

"And the direction?"

"Northeast, my Lord. Heading toward Camelot but making sure to avoid many villages. Emrys would be recognized anywhere should someone see him."

"You've done well."

"My Lord, the bounty on my daughter?"

"Will be removed should this information prove valuable. In the meantime, I suggest you return to your post. It would not do for the Queen to wonder where her lunch was."

The servant fled immediately, leaving the guild master to consider. This was not the first of his little pets inside the castle to report similar tidings. Was it possible? Had the young Prince actually unknowingly left himself so vulnerable? It was unclear whether the deadly Knight had gone with them or followed them, but there were merits to both actions. The King's reactions certainly seemed to match everything he'd heard and witnessed for himself. That kind of rage was difficult to fake.

He moved his bulk to his desk, cursing the softness of his once hard belly. Wealth did awful things to a man, he thought, reaching for his pen. A bird would fly soon, and then the matter would be left up to the Bounty Lord. He considered for a moment that a confrontation between the two may result in a lack of payment- he knew enough to know underestimating Emrys to be a mistake- but that was always a risk. Perhaps, he considered, rolling up the message, a side wager. Yes. There would be many interested in that- enough to make it a fat purse.

He'd profit one way or the other.


	10. Going Home: Chapter 10/11

Merlin tried to blow heat into his hands as the evening chill settled around them now that the sun was down. Again. The third night, since they'd left. Arthur would be furious with him when he got back. He was, in fact, counting on his fury upon discovering he'd left. He was under no illusions- his husband knew exactly where he had gone and why. He could only hope that the pace they were moving at was quick enough to stay ahead of any search parties, to give the illusion of making haste, but slow enough to give Beonin the chance to catch up.

"We should, at the very least, offer him some dinner, Sire," Ian grumped as he stirred the stew he'd prepared. "He's refusing to even light a fire for fear we'll catch on."

Merlin scowled. It had taken less than half a day to realize what that itch between his shoulders was. "I refuse to feel guilty, Ian. If Gwaine chooses to believe I'm _that_ oblivious, then he deserves a few nights of chill and a light belly." He'd spent many years doing what needed doing on his own, long before anyone ever bowed to him. He often missed the freedom that had come with being a servant. Lately, everyone watched his every move, and it was unnerving. He was developing a deeper respect for all those times Arthur had claimed he had to do what was 'expected' of him. Still. Gwaine, of all people, knew how capable he was. This following was insulting!

It had taken until they'd set up camp the first night for Ian to make the connection. He'd made a point of 'hunting' for their dinner behind them, reporting Gwaine's presence about an hour behind them. Nor had the servant been surprised by Merlin's knowing nod of acceptance. Not for the first time, Merlin wondered as to the history of the man he trusted with nearly every part of his life. He wouldn't ask- he very much sensed the servant _would_ answer him, and he somehow had the feeling he wouldn't like the answers.

"As you say, Sire."

"Ian, we're in the middle of nowhere. Is that really necessary?" Merlin griped.

Ian turned hard eyes on him. "It will remain necessary, Sire, for as long as you continue to request that I stop."

"Well at least stop with the Sire bit. I'm not sure why that even switched over. Camelot law will never recognize the marriage," Merlin sighed sadly, twisting the ring on his finger. "And few other Kingdoms will either. His marriage to Mithian will be the one they bow knee to."

Ian shrugged. "You are the spouse of the King, Sire. Camelot law may never recognize it, but for any who use that title, it is a subtle message to you both that _they_ do. Arthur has certainly made which marriage _he_ validates clear."

Merlin blinked, surprised. "I hadn't thought of it like that, Ian." He smiled, thinking back. "Thank you."

The servant shrugged, handing him a bowl of stew and the thin bread the man made on the rocks. Merlin had watched him, curious. A quick and simple bread that could be made fresh every night, with no need to worry about staleness. The flavor itself largely depended on whatever animal fat the man mixed with it.

"So, you're Lothian, then," Merlin observed casually, taking a bite, enjoying the startled look Ian gave him. He waved his bread. "Bonnoch."

"I wasn't aware you'd ever been to Lothian, Sire."

"I haven't. But the Lothian soldiers used to make something similar. None would ever tell me what the powder was. A flour, I assume, but each one seems to make it differently." He smiled at the memory. For all the horrors of the Battle at Nemeth, the nights spent at soldiers campfires were good ones. "One of them used to make it with lavender- that one was always my favorite, especially dipped in sweet cream. I begged him before he returned home, but he'd never tell me. He was always happy to make it for me when I came to camp, though."

Ian smiled, nodding. "Sacred family recipes, passed down for generations. Soldiers bread, some call it. Another expression translates to 'a wanderer's meal'. Many names, and as many ways to make it. A secret each would tell only the next generation. Your own secrets, Sire, were likely less well kept."

"How come you've never made it before? You've traveled with us more than once."

Ian snorted. "As you said, Sire, the Knight's can devastate any meal, and Bonnoch is difficult to make in large batches. It's always been an individual thing."

"But you don't have the accent?"

"I was young when I left, and at the time, Lothian was not well loved, Sire, as there were troubles with Caerleon. I worked very hard to be rid of it."

Merlin nodded, accepting. He'd pry no further, and settled in to enjoy the meal. He missed his friends, and his husband, but there was a part of him that was enjoying these quiet days and nights. There were always so many people in the castle. He was beginning to understand why Arthur went hunting so often.

Something snapped nearby, and both men were on their feet in an instant, looking around. Merlin had the distinct impression of several moving entities. They were being surrounded.

"Well well, so it's true. The King's pet magician braved the wilds," a voice called from their left. "Though I hear you've been promoted to whore as well." He offered a slow clap. "Well done!"

Merlin took a deep, steadying breath, as Beonin stepped into the light of their campfire. "Beonin," Merlin greeted carefully. "It took you long enough to get to us. I thought I'd have to spend another cold night out here."

"Been looking for me, have you? And what made you decide to make the job of killing you so much easier? I'll confess, I was looking forward to running Arthur through while you watched."

"I didn't come to fight, Beonin. I came with a warning," Merlin insisted, shoving his irritation with the former knight down. He supposed he truly was the fool Arthur claimed him to be. There was nothing in him that feared this man- he felt only pity- despite the madness that was clear in those hard eyes.

"A warning," Beonin laughed. Then he scowled. "To spread more lies into innocent ears. There are none here who would hear it from you, filthy sorcerer!" He took a threatening step forward toward the warlock.

Merlin let his eyes flash gold in warning. "I am not the weakened boy you once betrayed, Beonin. I have no wish to kill you. I came deliberately to avoid that. Arthur intends-"

"Arthur is a traitor!" Beonin hissed in anger. "Filthy enough to know your secret and not execute you, but to _bed_ you is a sickness all on its own." He laughed. "I spent years trying to find a way to break the enchantment I was so convinced you must have put on him. He had the makings of a great King before you soiled him with your lies and whispers."

"Beonin, for all you've lost, I regret. But you betrayed Camelot, and long before you knew about me," Merlin tried to reason.

"I knew!" Beonin raged, moving so quickly Merlin barely had a chance to register it until he felt the man's shaking hand at his throat, and could smell the awful stench of his breath in his face. "No mortal man survives the Dorocha!" he spat into the warlock's side turned face. "I was newly raised to Knighthood, but I wasn't stupid! And the longer Arthur remained blind to it, the more I suspected he knew, too. That's why it was both your lives I traded that day! And for my loyalty to the legacy King Uther left the good people of Camelot, I lost everything! Betrayed by even my brothers in arms! Oh yes, I have dreamed of this day!"

The snarling man then poured a vial into Merlin's mouth, and held his nose, forcing him to swallow even as he struggled in the strong grip. He coughed and spluttered, but a large amount was consumed. It burned it's way down his throat, and sat like acid in his stomach.

"There. Can't use none of your filth against me now!" Beonin grinned, using his grip to shake the smaller man. "It won't last long, but long enough to make you watch me take the lives of those you've corrupted!"

Merlin gasped as the hand around his throat tightened enough to bruise, feeling panic well in him as he tried to call on his magic. It was there… it floated just out of reach. This felt familiar, somehow, but he ignored it. He'd come for a purpose. "You've lost enough of your life to this madness," he panted. "End the bounty before someone innocent gets hurt, and leave. Never return. Live a life of freedom, and find peace in it. I can only give you this one chance."

Beonin burst out laughing. "A chance? I've got you surrounded. And yes, I even found your guard dog an hour back. He's properly chained up like a good puppy. Ah! There we are… is that a spark of fear I finally see? Not so brave without the magic, are you?"

Merlin spat in his face, choking as his air was lessened further. "I don't… need magic… to defeat… you," he pushed out, bringing his knee up into the former's Knight's stomach.

The hand around his throat released, and Merlin stumbled back a few steps, leaning over to cough and choke as he could finally breathe. He felt dizzy, lightheaded. The potion! He blinked hard, his eyes starting to sting. What would it do, besides dampen his magic?

"Kill them both!" Beonin wheezed out the yell, drawing his sword and taking a desperate swing at the younger man.

"Ian run!" Merlin ordered as he rolled away from the swing, his long daggers in hand as he came to his feet. But a quick glance told him his servant was already occupied in fighting off his own attackers, a determined set about him that let the warlock know he'd never leave. Without his magic, he had no way to help him. It was clear the man had some skill, but there were too many and there was already blood staining one arm. He hissed in frustration. There were too many. A dozen more at least, and likely more behind if they'd managed to stop Gwaine. He had no choice. Not if he wanted Ian out of this alive.

"Beonin, face me! One on one!" He challenged the former knight loudly. "Or have you forgotten all it was to be a Knight of Camelot?"

Beonin paused then, stepping back, his face twisting. "You _challenge_ me?"

"Knight's rules. Your sword against my long daggers. You've taken my magic, you know I can't use it." The potion burned in his veins, and Merlin worked hard not to show the tiny tremors it was lending to his muscles.

"Hold!" Beonin called out, shouting it again until all of his men stopped. His eyes shone with a light that made Merlin shiver. "By what right do you have to issue a Knight's Challenge?"

Merlin hesitated. Then his eyes flickered to Ian, and the man nodded at him. He was more than Emrys. He'd said himself, he was no longer the boy Beonin had once known. He'd commanded an army since then, defeated a King in single combat. He'd defeated the greatest evil the land had ever known, and he'd once been the essence of creation. He'd moved through time itself. No, that boy was long gone. When he spoke next, he allowed all he had achieved, all he was and had become, carry in the quiet command of his voice.

"I am an Elder Prince and Battle Mage of Dumnonia, and a First Knight of Albion. By these titles, and the blood with which I earned them, I claim a right. As I came here believing there was still a part of your heart that would always be a Knight of Camelot, I will offer you this last kindness in continuing to believe you are in spirit what you can no longer claim in flesh."

"I accept your Challenge," Beonin yelled out. "Grab the servant."

"No! Leave him alone!" Merlin shouted, frustrated. "This is between us!"

"Indeed it is, boy. But I want a little insurance against any tricks or clever plots! If you kill me, he goes free, the bounty is released, and we'll even release your guard dog. When I kill you… you all die, and the bounty moves to your precious King Arthur as the target," Beonin grinned. "Punishment for the whore thinking himself worthy of being a Knight!"

Merlin didn't miss the change from if to when, but let it slide. He swallowed. He'd made the challenge with the intention of a distraction so Ian could run to Gwaine. "It doesn't have to be like this," he murmured to the former knight. "I have no wish to kill you. I believe you've suffered enough in punishment of your betrayal. You can still leave, fade away into the forest, start a new life."

"Fool boy! It was _you_ who betrayed Camelot!" Beonin shouted, raising his sword. "You and your filthy kind!" He swung a little wildly.

Merlin blocked the blow with his vambrace, and hardened himself. This was Beonin's choice, not his. He'd done what he came to do.

"Then let's finish this, once and for all."

**MERLIN1010101010100MERLIN**

Gwaine quietly slithered through the forest, seeing the light of the campfire ahead. He was a little surprised to see about a dozen men simply standing, then heard steel on steel. His eyes widened as he took in the fight currently occurring between the former Knight and the warlock.

He took a moment to observe. Merlin was more than holding his own against the skilled swordsman, but there was something a little off in his footwork, his reflexes a little slower than normal. Deciding to take advantage of the distraction, Gwaine slipped up behind the men toward the back.

He'd managed four slit throats before he was noticed, and he raised his blade to defend. A part of him was impressed even as Ian took his own dagger from the belt of his guard, slashing his throat before he had a chance to object, then joining the fight with the others.

Well then. Time for some fun.

**MERLIN1010101010101010MERLIN**

Merlin barely registered the commotion going on beyond his own battle. The flurry of activity left no room to doubt his 'guard dog' had gotten free. He was relieved, knowing the Knight would free Ian and he no longer had to keep one eye on the servant.

"So much for honor," Beonin hissed at him, leaning his sword heavily against his daggers, having seen enough to know his numbers were being greatly reduced with every breath that passed.

" _My_ honor is intact, Beonin. It's not my fault _your_ men couldn't handle a puppy," Merlin snarled back, using his own momentum to twist the blades and his body, ramming his elbow back into the man's nose. It gave a satisfying crunch he thought Gwaine would have been exceptionally proud of to hear.

"Sooner or later you'll have no choice but give in to the potion in your blood. Then I'll kill you, and haunt the steps of the traitor King until his soon to come dying day!" Beonin gloated with a grin, noting the shake in Merlin's arm as his swing connected with the vambrace. The former knight didn't seem to notice the blood streaming from his own damaged nose, and his lopsided grin was macabre in the glow if the firelight.

"I won't let that happen," Merlin hissed, and swung his leg into the back of the man's knee, frustrated with his increasingly slow reflexes when his follow up blow was blocked by the sword.

**MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN**

"So, are we going to let this go on?" Gwaine asked, standing by the servant now that the minions had been taken care. Most were dead. Some would be unconscious for a good while yet.

"He made a Knight's Challenge, Gwaine," Ian replied calmly.

Gwaine snorted. "Did he, now?" He watched his student move, measured it against what he knew the warlock to be capable of. "He's slow."

Ian nodded. "Drugged."

"Ah. So… you think that's fair?"

"Fair or not, the rules of the challenge are clear."

"I wonder what made him change his mind. Knowing our too kind for his own good warlock, he came out here intending to _talk_ the mad man out of his revenge."

"He did." Ian smirked. "Too kind, perhaps, to save his own life. Not so to protect those around him."

"You came to force his hand," Gwaine breathed with respect for the manservant.

"Did you and Arthur really think you were being that subtle? Ah. There we go. It's finished."

Gwaine turned just in time to see Merlin twist, defending with one upraised vambrace while the other slid neatly into Beonin's throat. Huh. He'd have to remember that move.

**MERLIN1010101010101010MERLIN**

Merlin felt the warm blood spurt on his hand, met the former Knight's eyes. "Your mistake was threatening those I care for," he wanted the man to know before life completely drained from his eyes, "and underestimating what I'll do to protect them." Then he yanked out his blade, and watched emotionlessly as the body fell sideways, dead before it hit the ground.

"Not bad, mate," Gwaine praised, coming up beside him.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked as he cleaned the blood from his hands and blades on the clothes of the corpse. He stood, turning inquiring eyes to the man on his other side. "Ian?"

"Nothing a steady hand with a needle won't repair, Sire," Ian answered smartly.

Merlin nodded. "Good." They were safe. Everyone was safe. The bounty would be lifted once he made it clear no payment would come. While not what he'd hoped for, it was over, and he'd done his best.

He barely felt the two pairs of hands on his arms as he collapsed.


	11. Going Home: Ch 11/11 Final Story chapter

Arthur's eyes snapped open, sensing something had changed in the space around him. His eyes scanned the one side of the room, but found nothing. Rolling over, he let out a relieved laugh, all of his rage, fear, and doubt disappearing in the sight that greeted him. "You're back."

His husband was standing by the window, a steaming cup of tea in his hands, dressed in only his pants and boots. The early morning sunlight streamed around him as he turned to flash Arthur a brilliant smile as he nodded. "I'm back."

Arthur watched, smiling, as his lover moved with a grace that quiet confidence brought. No severe injuries then. His eyes swept the entire form, frowning a little when he saw the bruising around his lover's throat. Not completely unscathed, but alive, and generally well from the looks of it. "You're alright."

Merlin nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed beside his husband. "I am." He placed his tea on the nightstand then leaned over and grabbed Arthur's lips with his own, shivering when his lover didn't hesitate to respond, to match him.

"I've missed you," Arthur whispered, then pulled the younger man's teasing tongue into his own mouth, pulling back when he tasted honey, frowning. "Your throat?"

Merlin shrugged, repositioning himself so he could stretch out alongside his husband, putting his head on the broad chest. "Healing." He sighed happily when Arthur wrapped an arm around his waist, scooting over a little so Merlin wasn't balancing on the edge.

They lay in silence for a time, the King carding his fingers through his lover's raven locks while the fingers on his other traced the arm thrown across his abdomen. Arthur took comfort in just feeling his husband breathing against him. Days worrying that this would never happen again. That he'd made a mistake in letting the warlock go, waiting for the Bond to alert him that his reason to exist had ended. Sleepless nights as his mind conjured endless horrific scenarios. But Merlin was here, now. Safe, breathing, and warm next to him. Somehow, once again, the one left standing against the odds. As much as Arthur wanted to, he knew they couldn't stay in this little bubble forever. He had to know.

"Beonin?" he asked, swallowing.

"Dead."

"Love, I'm sorry, but Gwaine did the right thing-" Arthur started to explain, but stopped when Merlin shook his head.

"My dagger through his throat."

Arthur froze. Of all the ways he'd expected that to play out, Merlin actually being the one to kill the former knight had never occurred to him. A part of him had even been ready to hear Ian had finished it. But not Merlin. Not when his entire purpose had been to avoid that. Everything in him wanted to ask how, but the short, clipped answers and the raspy voice let him know just how sore his husband's throat was. Now was not the time for long discussions. His fingers returned to their previous activities.

So, he asked the only thing that really mattered. "Are you alright?"

Merlin nodded against him, still completely relaxed. "Gave him a chance."

"And that was enough for you?" Arthur dreaded the nightmares that would come from such a personal kill, but had to admit in his heart, he was relieved it was over. One less ghost of a past mistake to haunt them in the future. That was, after all, why he had sent Gwaine. He'd known why Merlin was going, the option the warlock would offer, or could accurately guess. Nothing of his predictions had warned him there was even a remote possibility his lover would be the one to make the kill. But, perhaps he shouldn't be surprised. He knew, of course, what the younger man was capable of, knew the lengths he would go to in order to protect those he loved, even if it destroyed him in the process.

Merlin sighed, moving so he could look at his husband, and Arthur was stunned by the conviction in those gold crowned azure eyes. "Arthur," he rasped. "He threatened you, threatened Gwaine and Ian. I offered what I could, more than once. He chose to give his life rather than live it. I wasn't going to let him kill me, never had any intention of risking _us_. But I gave him the choice. He chose death, even if he chose it by underestimating me. I'm sorry I left without telling you, I'm sorry I _needed_ to make him that offer. But I won't feel guilty for his decision. At least in this, I gave him back what little honor I could. Thank you, for letting me go, for letting me do this on my terms."

Arthur reached for the tea on the stand, giving the cup to his grateful lover. His own throat had a lump in it, and there was something that had been bundled inside of him that finally relaxed. He took the cup back, felt his husband settle in once against him. Of all people, he knew life came down to a series of choices. To decide which ones a person could live with, and which ones they couldn't.

It filled his heart to know Merlin had only needed to give the former knight the choice, that he'd never had any intention of making himself an easy target. A part of him had gone knowing with clarity he'd have to be prepared to do whatever it took. And he'd returned, calm and confident in having done his best. He'd once told Merlin that someday the boy would realize all he was to Arthur, would understand one heart did not beat without the other. For the first time, Arthur felt with certainty in every fiber of his being, even without being wrapped in the Bond, that Merlin _knew_ , wholly and fully, all they were together. Tears of joy sprang to his eyes, and for the first time in years, Arthur felt like he could breathe easily again. Merlin _knew_ , at long last.

"Thank you for knowing I needed you to come back," Arthur whispered, tightening his hold.

"Always," Merlin murmured, already half asleep.

**MERLIN1010101010101MERLIN**

"Durstan is a lucky, lucky man," Merlin breathed, blaming the slight crack in his voice on his healing throat. It had gotten better over the journey back to Dumnonia, and then the three days since then. At least enough that now it was far more likely the crack was caused by the heavy emotion swelling his heart. "Gwen, there are no words for how beautiful you are."

Gwen's gown was made of beautiful off-ivory silks. Her shoulders were bared, and the silk around the bust was form fitting, then draped and flowed freely from below the bust in layers. Gold thread embroidered vines crept up from the hem to mid leg, disappearing flawlessly into the silk.

She blushed at him. "Thank you, Merlin. I still can't believe Arthur sent to Camelot for the crown, and risked transporting it here. A circlet would have done."

Merlin shook his head. "As you know from sitting through our ridiculously drawn out wedding, the marriage rank is very important here. Arthur would not have you seen as less than you are. Durstan is marrying a Queen. It's important that everyone sees it."

Gwen shook her head. "He didn't wear his."

"Because his armor was his show of rank, not the crown, as you were so quick to remind me when _I_ griped. In our marriage, I outrank him. In yours, you outrank Durstan, who will wear only his talisman of Trade. Arthur tried very hard with the Queen to allow the Prince to show off his onyx stones, if only for the added prestige to you in the eyes of Camelot. He was quite upset when she refused."

Gwen sighed, shaking her head. "The Queen doesn't like him very much, I'm afraid. She still watches him every day, looking for Uther."

Merlin shrugged. "She respects him as a King, and understands that the responsibilities, the choices he has to make, sometimes make him a hard man. She's had to make many the same herself, and can understand him on a level even I can't. Affection may come later, or it may not."

Gwen giggled. "I think the fact that Durstan adores him makes her nervous."

Merlin laughed, nodding. There was definitely a bad case of hero worship to the Prince. Emrys he treated reverently, and with genuine fondness of a brother. But Arthur- the Prince was nearly as besotted with him as he was with Gwen. It made Arthur a little uncomfortable at times, but there was a genuine friendship between the two.

"Màthair has lost two Princes now, to Arthur," he laughed. "She is a shrewd enough trader to know she has to even the scales somehow."

Gwen smiled at him. "You say that so easily these days. Durstan grows happier by the day whenever you use it so naturally. There's a difference in the way you move, too. A grace that comes not just from your power or weapons, but... well, like Arthur, and Durstan's and Elloise. A confidence in knowing your place in the world. It's good to see. I know how hard it is, for those of us raised from less."

Merlin shrugged, then grinned. "Even _my_ skull can only be so thick, Gwen. _Eventually_ everything everyone has been trying to tell me had to hammer in. My mother once told me before we left Ealdor after I died- the first time- that I shouldn't hang on so tightly to what once was that I miss what could come. It took a long time, but I understand it now. I accept it. Considering that I've actually died twice now, it's not so impossible to believe that each time I returned as more than I was."

Gwen nodded. "We've come a long way, since the beginning, the three of us."

"We have."

He leaned back into the longseat, his legs put up, and relaxed, watching Gwen's maids finish attaching ropes of green emeralds in her hair, weaving them through the heavy crown. He almost felt a little guilty. He knew himself how long the ceremony was, and that crown was uncomfortable at best. Still. Arthur had been insistent. And he knew her maids had a beautiful circlet waiting for her to change into for the celebrations. She'd be able to enjoy that part of the evening, anyway. Judging from the smile she couldn't seem to lose, she was barely noticing its weight anyway.

He sighed happily. Gwen was getting married today, and she glowed with happiness. There were no assassinations to be on the look out for- the bounty had been cancelled. The guild master had made a point of presenting himself to Prince Durstan and explaining that he'd known when Merlin returned that the originator was dead and therefore unlikely to get a pay out. He hadn't been overly disappointed, and Merlin had felt a small thrill of accomplishment when the guild master was seen stopping by several court members' chambers to collect on wagers owed, as well as the barracks to deposit winnings. He'd been deeply touched when the Knight's of Camelot- who had wagered large amounts on his success- had donated their profits to the family of the sorcerer he'd killed. He'd blushed to his hairline when Leon had shrugged it off, saying it wouldn't be right to keep the money when they'd known in advance it was a sure win.

Arthur had been on edge for the first day of his return, as though waiting for Merlin to fall apart in guilt at what he'd done. Especially after Ian and Gwaine had reported the full details. The King had forced Artemis to look him over after finding out he'd been given a potion that had veiled his magic, pestering the druid enough that as a demonstration of its temporary effects, he'd had Merlin give the King a few magical lashes to his bottom. Arthur had returned, after that, to worrying about Merlin's mental state, worrying about the former knight's use of the word whore, and pet. Apparently, Merlin's own assertion that he felt nothing for the entire matter hadn't been enough.

He smiled as he remembered making love roughly to his husband that night, not only restraining him, but also gagging him. He had stopped midway, forced Arthur to wrap them both in the Bond, and taken the time necessary to make his King understand that he'd accomplished what he'd needed to do. By riding out to confront him, the mad man held no power over him. Beonin had made his own choice, and in single combat, Merlin chose to believe the former knight had taken back any honor that he had been deprived of. He would not diminish that honor by feeling guilty for a challenge won through superior skill. He'd refused to continue until he was able to feel, through the Bond, that Arthur believed him.

Then he'd driven his lover to new heights that had sent guards running to their chambers, stopped at the door by a grinning Leon and Percival. He didn't know what it was, but there had been something that relaxed in the Bond that night. A tension his lover had been carrying for years had eased as the warlock convinced him he would never lightly chance either of their lives- not only because of the Link, but he wouldn't willingly throw away all they had together, either.

As if summoned by his thoughts, a knock at the door came then, and Arthur swept through. Merlin grinned as he saw the box in his hands, breathing a slight sigh of relief. They hadn't been sure it would be finished on time.

Arthur stopped as he entered and Gwen turned to look at him. He stared. "By all the gods, Gwen, you are _beautiful_!" he breathed in shock. It wasn't just the dress. She was genuinely happy. He hadn't seen her like this since her wedding to Lancelot, and it swelled his heart. He offered a silent prayer to his fallen brother, and hoped the man could see the most brilliant of smiles on his wife's face.

"Thank you, Arthur," Gwen replied, blushing as he stared, wide eyed and open mouthed, at her.

Arthur shook himself, then glanced over to see his lover stretched out and relaxed on the longseat at the foot of her bed. Not for the first time, it struck him how much like a cat his husband resembled the few times he was truly and utterly relaxed. He'd seen it more frequently in post bliss languor, always delighting in the way his lover stretched against him afterwards. The pose now made a part of him twitch even as his clothes brushed the marks Merlin had made the other night in convincing the King he wasn't fragile, that he'd mastered the ghosts. He shivered, regretting they had other duties to attend to.

He caught the spark of relief those gold crowned eyes as Merlin took in the box in his hand, and he nodded.

"Of course, you're missing something."

Gwen frowned, looking down at herself, then turning to look in the mirror. "What could I possibly- oh, Arthur!" she breathed. He had taken advantage of her turning around and come up behind her, placing a necklace around her throat. On a delicate gold chain hung a jeweled rose, framed in gold, the petals made of rubies, the stem gold with leaves of emerald, with a topaz crown bunching the center of the rose together.

"Hmmm, truly now, Camelot's Rose," Merlin hummed in appreciation. "Perfect."

Gwen fingered the necklace. "It's beautiful, thank you!"

Arthur grinned. "You're marrying Dumnonia, Gwen, and your job is that of Queen. Merlin and I felt that you should have something that reminds you- Queen or Lady or Servant- Gwen, that you are, and always will be, a jewel of Camelot."

"Turn it around," Merlin instructed quietly, nervous of this part. "He's always going to be close to your heart, Gwen. No man can replace what he meant to you."

Frowning, she did so, and her breath caught. The stem that was sharp at the end and getting rounder toward the base of the flower was, in fact, a Knight's Lance, the base carved and hidden behind the petals and worked in gold. Gwen turned around, tears in her eyes, still touching the pendant.

Merlin and Arthur both reached for her at the same time, the three of them standing in a hug, tears in their eyes as they took a moment to remember their lost friend.

"He's here, Gwen," Merlin murmured, and a part of him knew that as absolute truth. "He's smiling. This is what he wanted for you."

**MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN**

"How a man of your small size can take in _that_ much alcohol, Merlin, I'll never know," Arthur teased, practically carrying his very drunk warlock into their chambers. He held in his laughter. He'd never seen Merlin drunk before. The warlock normally kept himself under tight control. "Of all the nights to give Ian off!" he lightly complained, not really meaning it. He sincerely doubted he'd ever get the chance to see his husband like this again, and was enjoying the sloppy expressions on his face, the relaxed feel of his muscles.

"Sh's h'p'y."

"She is, Love," Arthur replied gently.

"S'w L'n'c'lot," Merlin murmured, making the King freeze. "H's h'p'y. T'ch'd h'r ch'e'k."

Arthur swallowed, then continued stripping his lover now that he had him on the bed. "I never doubted Lancelot would always look out for her."

"He pa't'd y'u on the sh'o'l'd'r too. He t'ld me he m'ss'd us. H'p'y f'r us, too. H'p'y y'u g't ov'r y'r's'l'f," Merlin giggled.

"A wonderful gift, Merlin, to see the fallen again," Arthur murmured, wishing with all his heart he could have seen his friend again, too. "And that sounds like something he'd say. For what it's worth, I'm happy I got over myself too."

"W'n't t'go h'm'e, Ar't'ur."

Arthur's features softened with the sighed confession. "We'll start preparations tomorrow, Love. I swear. We'll be home in a week. That'll give you a few days to spend with Gwen, since she's required to stay here for a month to complete her introduction to the people."

"Hmmm… L'st thr'ee, all h'p'y Ar't'ur."

Arthur chuckled, his heart swelling. "Yes, Love, we're all happy."

**MERLIN10101011010100MERLIN**

Arthur felt it the moment they passed over Camelot borders, and he wasn't the only one. Several of the Knights and soldiers whooped, taking off toward the City at a high speed on their horses. Servants gleefully cheered. Within moments, there was a very distinct air of celebration around the large group, despite being still some days from the city itself.

Merlin shot him a grin, shivering with the sudden energy that came from the group behind them. "At last!"

Arthur nodded. Weeks later, great battles fought, two weddings, assassination attempts, friendships lost and gained, alliances built, and it all felt like years had passed since they'd left their beloved city in a hurry, answering a desperate call for help. Lives lost, and a victory won. Many who had started out with them were not in this group. Were buried instead on a battlefield in another Kingdom. And there would be grief to come. None who had left that day had returned as the same they had been, the changes in some more obvious than others. But they _had_ returned. For now, those that remained had felt the soothing balm that was the knowledge of soon being reunited with loved ones, of celebrating those lives that _did_ make it back. He let it wash over him, cleansing him.

"We're home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERLIN101011010MERLIN
> 
> AN: END STORY "GOING HOME"- A reminder that the next chapters uploaded will be a different story, and may not necessarily connect to this one. Each story can be read separately, so never feel you'll miss something if you decide to skip a story because it's not your thing, lol.
> 
> Going Home was never intended to be so long, lol. As I said, I was re-reading and looking to tie up some loose ends from the original series. I hope this covered just about everything. I know there's a couple I missed, but they were done deliberately, as they are big enough to make stories of on their own. Please feel free to point out anything that hasn't been tied up to your satisfaction :)
> 
> Ah, and for those wondering about The Ritual. Okay. So, here's the deal. The vision I have in my head of the whole thing is incredibly dark- possibly psychotically so. And I mean darker than anything I've ever written before, in any fandom. I've tried hinting at enough to leave it up to the reader's imagination, but… if anyone is actually interested in reading- reminder, beyond dark, triggering potential, and every other warning I can think of (not quite non or dub con because, well, they all 3 agreed to it- but it will still feel like a non con) adding- please mention in reviews and I will see if there's enough to post it. If it's not mentioned, I will assume readers are content to leave it to their imaginations.


End file.
